DIVORCE
by Ifuonlyknewgrl
Summary: UPDATED! "Malfoy," Hermione started, "I want a DIVORCE—a D.I.V.O.-MMHPH!" DMHG. AN: will start off leisurely but WILL get to the point! STRONG M for adult-themes.
1. Chapter One

**D. I.V.O.R.C.E.**

**Summary:** "Malfoy," Hermione started, "I want a DIVORCE—a D.I.V.O.--MMHPH!" DMHG. AN: will start off leisurely but WILL get to the point! STRONG M for adult-themes.

**Author's Note:** Another story! Yay! It was going to be a one-shot but it turned into something much more that might need to be addressed in about three to five chapters. Enjoy. Please leave comments.

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_**Prologue**_

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Unlike popular assumption, Hermione did not run off with Ron in a romantic fashion, and did not run behind Harry to become an Auror. She didn't follow Ginny's footsteps in becoming a Healer, and she didn't become someone's housewife.

Hermione was a SOUGHT AFTER Defense Attorney. Her qualifications had surpassed the ADA spot and she had actually snatched the DA position right from under the noses of middle-aged, pureblood male wizards that usually snagged the job. She was the youngest DA to come to the Ministry. Soon after her little stint there, Hermione was offered a job as an Associate at the prestigious Warlock & Madden firm. She had become partner shortly after that.

So when Hermione was presented with the opportunity to hire a new Associate, she was expecting another young, vibrant witch who would look up to her and want to BE her.

Instead, she got the one and only Draco Sodding Malfoy.

--

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_**Chapter One**_

_**.**_

She was quite surprised when her assistant, Mary-Sue, stumbled into her office in such a disorderly manner. Such behavior was frowned down upon by Hermione in her offices. The young girl's blonde tresses falling in her baby blue eyes, her pink cheeks even rosier than usual as an effect of blushing, giggling behind her hand as the seductively suave Draco Malfoy followed behind her.

"Ms. Granger, your two o'clock is here," the girl giggled. Hermione, despite her scowl, couldn't help but notice how gorgeous he looked dressed in a black suit, a pinstripe gray colored shirt underneath it with an even blacker tie around his neck. His blonde hair wasn't sleek back, but cut short to hang about his ears, making him—how could she say this without appearing like her secretary?—making him delectably 

desirable. She drew in a breath as he stood before her desk, briefcase in hand and a sneer on his handsome face.

"Hello Granger," he said. His voice was strong, and in Hermione's opinion, too strong. She thought to knock him down a few notches from his high stance. She stood from her seat, offering him her hand. He shook it with vigor, and Hermione motioned for him to sit in the armchair in front of her desk. She gave her assistant a pointed look, and the girl left them alone.

"So what can I do for you Mr. Malfoy?" she asked airily, leaning back in her seat, crossing her legs. Draco's sneer grew wider as he stared at her.

"I'm here to offer your firm my services, Granger. Warlock & Madden are seeking a new Associate, and I would love to take that position."

"Take? Has it been _offered_ to you yet?" she asked. His sneer faltered.

"No—"

"Then I suggest you leave your resume with Mary-Sue, and I'll get back to you in a couple of weeks after I review _all_ the applicants." Merlin, she loved her job. And she loved it more as the look of outrage crossed Draco's face.

"I don't need a Ministry Official to appoint me as the Associate, Granger. I know I'm fully capable of doing the job superbly," he said, gripping the armrest.

"I'm sure you are," Hermione said in faux consolation. "But I'm also sure that there are _hundreds_ who feel the same way, and I plan on weeding out the people who are snobs, liars, and overachievers to find that _perfect_ individual. Now good day Malfoy, and please—don't let the door hit you on the way out," she said, professionalism damned. She gestured to the door, to emphasis her point. Fuming, Draco stood, having not only been knocked down from his high-horse but completely assaulted in the process.

"You'll see Granger. I WILL be hired here."

"Good-bye Malfoy, and if you would like to have mini updates on how the process is going, leave your owl post with my secretary."

With a final look of anger, hate, and most importantly defeat, Draco exited her office.

--

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, laughing into his beer. It was tradition. Harry, Ron, Ginny and her would meet up at a local Muggle bar every Friday to share a beer and unwind from the hectic week. She told them about running into Malfoy earlier in the day. They couldn't hold in their mirth.

"And you shot him down like _that?_ Cor, Hermione, I love you," Ron said, swinging an arm around her slender shoulders as she sipped her beer. She was able to relax with them, having taken off her charcoal grey suit jacket to expose her ruffle-style white blouse and pulled her hair free from its tight bun, letting 

it fall down her shoulders in soft, tight curls. She was attractive, and the Muggle men kept shooting her looks once in awhile. Ginny smiled at her.

"You look just _radiant_ tonight Hermione? Is something ELSE happening at work?"

Hermione slumped a bit. There was no special someone that she was thinking about at the moment. To be quite honest, she was just relishing in the fact that she had stuck her foot up Malfoy's ass. She shrugged. "Nothing unusual…it's just me and the cat still," she said, referring to Crookshanks. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"You should let me hook you up with my Instructor. He's a little bit older than us—"

Harry snorted. "You mean he's about a decade older than us?"

"No!" Ginny exclaimed, nudging him in the rib. "He's only 31."

"That's nearly a decade!" Ron shouted. "That's WAY too old, Hermione here is only 22…she's way too young for him."

"But he's handsome, sweet, intelligent…_he loves kids,_" Ginny said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He's the epitome of perfection."

"Wow Gin, why don't you go off and marry the bloke?" Harry said sullenly. Ginny laughed and wrapped her arm around Harry's, leaning into him.

"Can't, love. I'm dating you."

"Damn right."

"Hermione can't POSSIBLY think of children right now. She just made partner," Ron injected.

"Exactly. I just made Partner. There's no way I'm going to settle down and become some worried mother suffering from depression because her husband is never home and her baby is always crying…"

"Ah, c'mon Hermione! Since you've made partner you haven't been your usual self. You're all stiff and lawyer-ish. You're even borderline mean," Ginny said lightly, to protect Hermione's feelings.

"Not true," she replied simply, ignoring the dubious looks on her friends faces.

"Well, he's still worth the catch, Hermione. Why won't you let me hook you two up?"

"Ginny, Hermione is successful, beautiful, and smart—I'm sure she can find a bloke all on her own," Ron said, the tips of his ears turning red. It was obvious that Ron was attracted to her, but was too shy to tell her. Hermione, despite being the power-freak she was, had a soft spot for Ron, but secretly wanted a man who would TAKE CONTROL of her and lasso her in. Ron just wasn't her type.

"I'm sorry, did I just hear you right Ronald? Did you just call Hermione _beautiful?" _Harry teased.

"And smart and successful?" Ginny giggled.

Ron was incredibly red now, hiding himself behind another beer.

"Lay off guys," Hermione said mischievously. "Won-Won is just _shy._" This elicited another fit of laughter from her friends, Ron thoroughly embarrassed.

--

It was Monday again, and Hermione was as usual making her trek from Muggle London to Kings Cross, the Warlock & Madden high-rise in the Financial and Business district not too far from the Ministry.

As she waited for a Muggle to finish her conversation in the telephone booth, she opened her compact mirror to peer at her reflection and nearly dropped it in surprise. Behind her stood Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" Her hand jumped to clench her neck in fear. "You scared the _bloody hell_ out of me, you great oaf!" she hissed. "Are you stalking me now?" She tsk'ed in disappointment, realizing that it was a damn shame that Malfoy looked and smelled so good, but was a complete evil dolt.

Her frowned at her, "Is that any way to speak to your new Associate?" he asked.

"What?" she laughed in his face. "My _new_ Associate? I thought I told you already, Malfoy, but you'll have to WAIT like everyone else—"  
"—Despite everyone's preconceived opinion of you being highly intelligent Granger, I believe someone needs to do their fact-checking. I told you before I left that I WOULD be hired at the firm. You laughed at me, mocked me even, and I warned you. You should've held your tongue. Perhaps we wouldn't be having this ridiculous conversation if you had. Nevertheless, I was indeed hired by Marcus Warlock himself. I went to his office as soon as I left yours and he didn't need to see my resume…he hired me on the spot before I even sat down. We even shared a cigar together…"

Hermione gasped, her face contorting in pure shock and then anger. He had gone to her _boss._ Hermione had only shared a cigar with Warlock ONCE and that was when she made Partner—when she had become "one of the boys." Malfoy, who seemingly appeared out of thin air, was able to bag a job AND a cigar through Warlock without ANY effort. It hurt her even more that Warlock had overrode her decision to review all the applicants individually. She had explicitly told him this when he told her to find the new Associate. "I see the glass-ceiling has not been cracked at all," she croaked.

"Pish-posh, Granger, don't give me that Feminist bullock. What you need to give me though, is an apology, and perhaps a handshake. We are a TEAM now…"

"You bastard!" she cried. "I would rather die under a rock than shake your hand. How dare you go above me and above all the other possible applicants who took their time, their DEDICATION, to send me their resumes and their life stories in pursuit of getting that position! How dare you. You aren't a part of _MY_ team Malfoy!"

He smirked, "Perhaps not a part of _your_ team, Granger…but Warlock & Madden's team, most definitely."

She wanted to scream—no—she wanted to KILL Malfoy. But instead, she remained as composed as possible, and turned sharply on her heel to the now empty telephone booth. Cursing under her breath, she stepped into it and picked up the phone.

"Ministry of Magic," she barked into it. Immediately, she was pulled down into the tunnel.

--

"Ms. Granger! Ms. Granger!" Hermione ignored her assistant's calling as she made her way to her office. "You have thirty-seven messages and—"

"I'll address them LATER. Do not direct ANY calls to my office this morning. Tell them I'm in a meeting. I want a latte on my desk in two minutes, or so help me Merlin, I WILL fire you," Hermione growled, entering her office and not turning to look at the other girl once.

Mary-Sue looked as if she would burst into tears as she held out the parch-notes to Hermione. Quickly withdrawing them, she said, "Mr. Warlock would like to see you immediately." And with that, the young assistant flew from out of Hermione's sight, seeking a latte.

Hermione threw her briefcase behind her desk and allowed her shoulders to sag. She was very keen on posture, so doing this was a guilty treat she indulged in once-in-a-while. She shook her head in confusion at the thought of Malfoy being hired underneath her like that. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't.

She tidied herself up a bit and exited her office, heading towards the lift. From the corner of her eye she saw her assistant dodge people, holding a steaming latte in her hands. The lift had arrived.

"Ms. Granger! Your latte!" the girl cried, holding it out. Hermione rolled her eyes and took the cup from the girl.

"Thank you. Now get back to work," she ordered, before the lift of the door closed. She was able to catch the relieved look that flew across the blondes face.

Hermione pressed the 68th button. The entire floor was dedicated to Warlock. His offices, secretaries, and conference rooms were all there. The trip up took about five minutes, and she was painstakingly _pissed_ when the door opened and she was opposite of none other than Malfoy, shaking the hands of Marcus Warlock AND Alexander Madden with a brilliant smile on his face. She stepped off the lift, slowly making her way towards them.

"Excellent, Mr. Malfoy! Just EXCELLENT!" Warlock complimented, pleased at something Malfoy must have said.

"We're lucky to have you on the team, Son," Madden said. Hermione froze. _SON?_ Her brain screeched. _THEY'RE CALLING HIM __**SON**__ NOW?_

"Ah! Hermione!" Warlock called out happily, having noticed her. He turned to Malfoy, "Hermione is our Partner here and she's just superb! We made her Partner a year ago, and let me tell you, she hasn't taken a day off since! She's a determined young lady. She'll show you the moves around here," Warlock chuckled. She stood before the men, her heart pounding against her ribcage in anger, but her face cool, professional and just a tad-bit impassive.

"Pleasure to have you on board," Hermione said silkily, offering her hand to Malfoy. The blonde shook it with uncertainty, probably curious to her state of utter calmness. She dropped his hand immediately and turned to her two employers. "I believe Mr. Malfoy and I attended Hogwarts together," she paused, watching the two older men smile and nod their heads at her in approval. "So what did you want to see me for Marcus? Would you like to go into the conference room?"

"Oh, yes! Our mini meeting," Warlock said, startled into remembering why he had called for her. He placed his hand on her shoulder gently. "Please excuse us, Mr. Malfoy, Alex; we'll be back in a jiffy!" Warlock led Hermione into a small conference room around the corner and held the door open for her, making Hermione smile at him at the chivalrous gesture. When they were seated and relaxed, he started.

"Hermione, you've been a wonderful aspect to this firm since you came to us three years ago. You passed your Wizarding Law Exam with world-setting numbers, you're the youngest to have been a DA at the Ministry and first female to ever grace the seat of Partner at Warlock & Madden, and you're just an overall excellent worker. I want so much for you here…"

"Why thank you, Marcus. I feel like Warlock & Madden have made my three years here rather comfortable and welcoming—this is home to me, if I may say, you all are like family to me," she said automatically.

"I'm glad to hear it, Hermione. Very glad…So glad that I feel even more comfortable telling you this…"

"Yes?" she asked, holding her breath. She would go insane if it dealt with Malfoy—

"I have a stepson, about your age…"

"Oh?" Hermione asked, obviously surprised.

"Yes, and he's very ambitious! A ball of energy, if you ask me, and incredibly intelligent…he's going to be a therapist. I think—well, Hermione, I see you're here all the time, and I know you're not married. Perhaps I'm digging a little bit too far into your private life, but you're a very beautiful witch, and I've bragged about you to my stepson numerous times…I just think maybe you two should meet, probably go out for a coffee?"

Hermione sat back in her seat, a million thoughts running through her head. She didn't want to decline the offer, even though she didn't want to be set up by her _boss_ of all people. She also didn't want to appear rude to him, jeopardizing their relationship. She smiled.

"Oh, Marcus, I'm flattered! I've been so busy…it would be a rather nice break for me to have coffee with someone who will talk to me about things not pertaining to law and the firm," she said sweetly. _There,_ she thought, _easily said and not promising anything._ She wasn't a lawyer for anything. She had a way with words.

"Excellent!" Warlock boomed, clapping his hands together in glee. "My stepson is coming in this afternoon, actually. Maybe I'll let him swing by your office for lunch?"

"That would be lovely," Hermione gritted out. She stood from her seat as Warlock stood to his feet, straightening out his robes. Although robes weren't a part of the dress code, Warlock was known for his lavish style of robes and wore a different one every day, despite being a rather beefy man. As they exited the office, Hermione gave a little exclamation. "Oh, my apologies Marcus, but what is your son's name?"

"Ah! How foolish of me, it's Blaise. Blaise Zabini."

--

Hermione sat at her desk, still pale from finding out that she would be going on a lunch-date with none other than Draco Malfoy's best friend, Blaise Zabini. To be honest, she hadn't really spoken to the handsome dark wizard at Hogwarts, believing him to be one of Malfoy's minions, but she hadn't ignored how amazingly sexy he was at school. Lavender and Parvati would often giggle about him in Potions and in the dorms. She couldn't help but agree with them. She hadn't even known that Warlock was married to Blaise's mother, who had a reputation of being…well, poisonous to the men she married. Hermione shook her head of the thoughts, and settled for another one—Malfoy's job. With a sneer she realized how he had gotten the job. He had obviously gotten help from Blaise. This made her sick to the stomach.

"Ms. Granger—" said a voice from her door. Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts as Mary-Sue pushed open the door slightly. "Mr. Malfoy is outside. He would like to speak with you."

"Send the basta—I mean, please send him in, thank you," Hermione said, biting her tongue over the curse word.

Malfoy entered her office, dressed exquisitely in gray suit pants and a collared white shirt, a matching gray tie dangling from his neck. "Granger, I know you may be mad at our little evil stint that occurred last Friday and this morning, but…I would like to make it up to you."

Hermione lifted a brow. "Make it up to me how?" she asked, suspicious of his words. She was usually great at reading people, figuring out if they had hidden agendas, but reading Malfoy was hard. He smiled at her—a GHASTLY smile!

"Let me take you out to lunch," he said confidently. She coughed, actually wanting to laugh loudly in his face. She then smiled.

"Oh, I'm sorry Malfoy, but my lunch is booked. Perhaps some other time?"

"What do you mean _booked?_ I asked your secretary about your lunch schedule today and she said you were free. Actually, she said you're _always_ free during lunch."

Hermione flinched. Her silly little assistant had batted her eyelashes too much in Malfoy's direction, and now she was sharing her agenda with the ass. She cleared her throat. "What an obvious violation of my privacy, Malfoy," she said icily.

"I wouldn't be in a direct line of violation, since your secretary provided the information."

"Ah! But you requested it from her, and probably persuaded her with less-than-gentlemanly methods to boot!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have whores as secretaries then, Granger."

She was about to agree with him when she realized he was, in sense, insulting her. "Bugger off Malfoy! I've got REAL work to do."

"Ah, but Mary-Sue also told me that you're WAY ahead of ALL your caseloads. You've closed ten cases this past weekend, and you've already debriefed three clients for an upcoming trial in front of the Wizengamot."

Hermione was practically seething! There was no way in fucking hell she would allow Mary-Sue to continue her employment here, and no way in hell she would let Malfoy embarrass her in such a way.

"Get OUT Malfoy!"

"Just let me take you out to lunch," he said, almost pleadingly. Hermione froze. Okay, maybe not _pleadingly_, but in a sense that he really wanted her presence. She smirked.

"I can't. I have a date."

"With who? Weasley? Potter?"

"No, your friend…Blaise Zabini…" she said lightly, suddenly finding interest in the files on her desk.

"Liar," he said.

"Liar?" Hermione asked, stunned, looking up. "Just because I'm a lawyer doesn't mean I'm a _liar_, Malfoy," Hermione said with a quirk. He frowned at her.

"I don't believe you."

"Why the hell not?"

"He's never spoken of you to me."

"Why would he talk to you about ME?"

"Because…" Draco trailed off.

"Because?"

"Whatever Granger, go on your foolish date with Zabini. But when you get back, I want to hold a meeting with you so we can go over all the cases that need to be dealt with, especially cases brought by the People in Special Victims cases, those our my top priorities here."

"Who would ever think a Malfoy cared about the physical welfare of other people?"

"Shut it, Granger, and just come back with your knickers still on," he said grossly, before leaving her office, the door slamming behind him. She jumped at the noise.

"Okay…" she said in confusion. She turned back to work.

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**Please review! This story counts on your thoughts! I hope you all enjoyed chapter one, and check back for chapter two in a couple of days!**

_Resubmitted 06.06.08_


	2. Chapter Two

**D. I.V.O.R.C.E.**

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**Summary:** "Malfoy," Hermione started, "I want a DIVORCE—a D.I.V.O.--MMHPH!" DMHG. AN: will start off leisurely but WILL get to the point! STRONG M for adult-themes.

**AN:** Thank you all for the lovely reviews/corrections. I've resubmitted chapter one with the corrections offered to me. I really appreciate this, as constructive criticism DOES make a story better! I hope you all enjoy chapter two.

Please note again, **I HAVE RESUBMITTED CHAPTER ONE**. Thank you, and on with the show—

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Hermione was walking over to the water cooler down the hall to get a glass of water, in a state of fits. She had called for Mary-Sue three times, but the girl had not answered. As she passed the now-empty Associate lounges, she caught sight of Mary-Sue sitting on the edge of the table, the top of her blouse slightly open as Draco Malfoy loomed above her, a classic grin on his face as he spoke in soft tones to the younger girl. She giggled, batted her eyelashes, and gave him a star struck look.

Turning an impossible angry shade of purple, Hermione retrieved her water and went back to her office.

**Chapter Two**

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, glancing nervously at the pristine table-clock made of silver that Harry had given her when she had made DA at the Ministry. Her lunch had started ten minutes ago, and Blaise Zabini had not made an appearance yet. Although she told herself she wouldn't care if he didn't show up, she actually did. Rejection was hard for her now, especially when she's always the one winning and achieving in everything she wants. She had an inkling feeling that Blaise would stand her up because of Malfoy. His behavior was just—odd. She had to shrug him off her mind because Malfoy was always odd. He was an odd ball—no—a ball of oddness—a nutcase. Hermione giggled to herself at the string of words that popped into her head as she flipped through a file for Fermus V. Appelgen. She had become so immersed in the closing of the case that she didn't notice Mary-Sue at her door until the young girl spoke.

"Ms. Granger—"

Hermione snapped her head up, her eyes narrowing in on the girl. "Didn't I fire you yet?" she hissed. The girl jumped in fear. "I should fire you…you little brat! How dare you offer my information to Malfoy?"

"Ma'am, you never told me I couldn't tell people your schedule…"

"COMMON SENSE would tell you that you shouldn't share information if you don't have the permission to do so! It is a very English virtue, common sense, which you seem to unfortunately lack."

Mary-Sue's hand flew to her mouth in shock, her eyes watering up in tears. "You're fired," Hermione growled. "I want you OUT OF MY OFFICES in less than five minutes or I'll get security to throw you out."

Sniffling, the girl nodded, turning to leave. "I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Zabini is outside the office."

Hermione stiffened, thoroughly embarrassed that Blaise heard her firing Mary-Sue. As the girl left, a sheepish looking Blaise entered the room. Her mouth slid open.

The boy she remembered from Hogwarts was…well…no longer a boy. He stood a good 6'2, his shoulders broad and straight, leading to a very sexy and well-portioned torso that she felt had a toned and muscular stomach. His face—oh his face! He had a chiseled jaw line, with amazing deep honey brown eyes that were tantalizing and maddening at the same time. He was amazing gorgeous as he stood in front of her in a white collared shirt, a black sweater-vest over it and black slacks.

"Hermione," he greeted. His voice sent a rippling affect through her. She nearly slid out of her chair. It took her awhile to find her voice, as her mind comprehended exactly what she wanted to say—

"Blaise Zabini…" she started, in awe. "It's so nice to see you."

"Marcus has told me a lot about you, I have to say I'm quite pleased to be taking you out this afternoon."

--

As they strolled through Diagon Alley, Hermione had learned a few interesting things about Blaise. Blaise's family came to the U.K about over a hundred years ago from West Africa, where they wanted to establish themselves in the Wizarding community rather than find themselves persecuted and kidnapped by Western and Spanish explorers coming to colonize their land and put them on slave ships. He was the only son and child, third in class at Hogwarts, and had always wanted to be a therapist, seeking to aid mentally ill children. Hermione couldn't help but smile at that bit of information, quite in awe at Blaise's little look into his life. He was also single, living in a lovely flat in Muggle London, and had established his own Private Practice in Diagon Alley. He visited his mother twice a week, and owned a cat named Knuckles.

He laughed, "He's a very sweet cat, and I named him Knuckles because when he was kitten, he used to wrestle with my hand, which usually ended up with him conceding by licking my knuckles, thus forever making him the King of All Knuckles." Hermione giggled at this. She told him about her own cat. Blaise smiled, "Knuckles…he's like my child…owning animals is so much better than having children, at least in this point of my life. I love helping kids but…having one right now though? No. Not now." Hermione beamed—this was the perfect guy for her.

He was attractive (VERY attractive), incredibly intelligent, funny, and compassionate. She found herself thanking Warlock in her head as they made their way to a corner bistro.

--

She was twenty minutes late when she came back to her offices, inviting Blaise back with her so they could close up the end of their luncheon. He had accepted, and Hermione couldn't have been happier. She stopped to glance over at the empty desk that used to sit her secretary.

"Well…" Hermione started, somewhat surprised at how fast the girl had left. She shrugged her shoulders and entered her office, sitting on an armchair as Blaise sat next to her in the other one.

"Real quick," she said, leaning forward and picking up the phone on her desk, pressing a bunch of numbers she waited. "Hi, this is Hermione Granger and I'm calling to put in a request for a new secretary…yes…yes I fired Mary-Sue. Send me a good one this time. Yes. Oh, that would be perfect." She hung up and turned to Blaise. "I have the worst luck with secretaries. Mary-Sue is the second one I fired. The first was stealing from me, and now this one was…reckless and unprofessional. I just want to have some orderliness in my office," she said, exasperated. He nodded and chuckled a bit.

"You seem to be very busy here," he commented, looking around her beautifully decorated office. There was a round conference table in the corner, where she held meetings with clients, a row of file cabinets up against one side of the wall, a Persian rug with a sofa pressed against another wall, pictures of her friends, her parents, and her cat hung above it. "Nice sofa," he commented, grinning at her.

She blushed, "it's a let-out bed too."

"Ah…"

"For when I'm pulling an overnighter…"

They stared at each other, caught in their own silent thoughts. She saw the movement first, but had realized she was moving in on him as well. They were close to sharing a kiss when the door opened.

"Oh! I'm sorry," came a drawl, "am I interrupting something Granger?"

"Draco!" Blaise exclaimed, smiling. "Wonderful to see you mate, and dressed so professionally. This is quite a change for you."

"Really?" Hermione asked in surprise. She had thought that Malfoy always dressed in a chic, seductive way. Blaise laughed.

"No, you could usually catch this bloke dressed in a t-shirt and jean trousers."

"Really?" Hermione said again, completely taken off guard. She stared up at Malfoy in shock. "I would never have known…Malfoy in Muggle clothes?"

He ignored her, "I realized that you fired Mary-Sue. One simple question—why?"

"Why?" Hermione nearly barked. "You were attempting to seduce her!"

"Does that bother you, Granger? That I may have wanted to shag your secretary?" Draco asked with a brow lifted in curiosity.

Hermione spluttered, "No! I mean, of course! Of course I would be bothered! This is a professional institution with a reputation that needs to be upheld and honored Malfoy."

Draco coughed, "and I guess what I was interrupting upholds the honor code for this facility?"

"You interrupted nothing! I was just about to show Blaise out," Hermione said, standing up, Blaise following suit. "You snooping brute," she said under her breath and she placed a caring hand on Blaise's arm, looking up at him. "Thank you so much for the lovely afternoon, we'll definitely have to do this again," she said sweetly. Blaise smiled.

"Of course, how about dinner Friday night?" he asked.

"Would Thursday be too much?" she asked.

"No, not at all. Thursday night it is. I'll owl you?"

"Most definitely." They stood gawking at each other in blatant shyness.

"You both sicken me," Draco said, pulling Hermione out of her gaze.

"Then why don't you LEAVE Malfoy?" she said.

"Because some of us know what work is all about, Granger! I told you before you went off with Zabini that I wanted a MEETING with you. I am HERE for that meeting, now kindly show your guest out and bring your wits back to your job."

She glared at him and turned her head back to Blaise, "Let's go," she said, walking over to the door. "Stay outside my office Malfoy, I don't need you snooping around. I should be having a secretary soon."

"Whatever," he muttered, leaving the room along with them. As she walked down the hall with Blaise by her side, she couldn't help but feel the heated, angry glare Malfoy was shooting at her back. She shivered at its intensity, but did not turn around once.

--

"Well hello Ms. Granger!" said a very airy, cheerful voice. Hermione turned to see someone unloading their stuff where Mary-Sue used to sit, just juxtapose to her office door. It was her new secretary.

Before her stood a young man, possibly in his late teens—He was lanky and impossibly thin, with a bright pink shirt on, a heather grey sweater pulled on top of it, with a neon-green tie on, and pink and green plaid pants on. He had thin, rectangular shaped glasses and his hair was short and spiked. He was pale with a long face, and pouty pink lips. In other words, he was the gayest person Hermione had ever seen at Warlock & Madden. She stopped in her tracks to give him a slow, almost inviting smile—closer to any type of sweet greeting Hermione Granger gave to ANY secretary at the firm.

"I'm Aaron Collins, your new secretary," he said, coming around his desk. Instead of offering her a hand to shake, he gave her a tight hug. Hermione, completely shocked, was delayed in her hugging back, but did so eventually.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, stepping away from the embrace first. "I see that you're settling in alright."

"Yes, yes, I am," he said happily, a little bounce in his step. "You're such an inspiration to the people at this firm; I'm just so honored to be working with you."

Hermione glowed. She absolutely loved compliments when it pertained to her job. "Why thank you Aaron," she said with a grin. Aaron's eyes suddenly focused on something over Hermione's right shoulder, making her slowly turn to see what he was staring at.

It was Malfoy. By the water cooler down the hall.

"Tres chic," he said under his breath. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's Draco Malfoy," she started, "he's a new Associate here. I'm going to head into my office, and he'll be coming over here for a meeting. Let him know that I'm back and he can enter. Oh, and thanks for being here, it's really tough breaking in a new secretary, but I feel like we're going to be a great duo, don't you think?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, yes I do!" he had gone back behind his desk, allowing Hermione to enter her office finally, sending one last withering look at Malfoy's turned back.

--

"So I'm guessing your lunch with Blaise was a promising event?"

"Be quiet Malfoy, and let's discuss the file."

Hermione laid out three gruesome images of a disfigured body before Malfoy, making the man recoil in disgust.

"What the BLOODY HELL is THIS Granger?"

"Your new case, Malfoy. At this firm we're not prejudice against cases, we do things from corporate injustices to petty crime. We are either enlisted through individual clients or the Ministry itself. The Ministry each month submits about twenty cases that need to be addressed and can't be at the facilities there. These are usually murder cases. Now, this case involves a woman who was brutally tortured and murdered in her home in Hogsmeade. Her family has brought a case against the woman's ex-boyfriend--" she paused, flipping through the paperwork to produce another photo, this time a mug shot, "Dixon Armstrong. Now, there's evidence pointing to him, but the courts at the Ministry are very tied up at the moment and can't seem to produce further material that'll help us in the case. This, Malfoy, is your first case. You are to communicate with the Aurors and deem what evidence they find necessary to convict Mr. Armstrong. There might be a plea bargain, but you'll have to communicate with the woman's family to figure out whether or not that option should be left up to the suspect. Understood?"

"Granger," Malfoy started out nervously, "I don't think I can…I mean…"

Hermione's eyebrows rose, "Are you saying you're not capable, Malfoy?" He stirred and shot her a glare.

"That's not what I'm saying, it's just, well, this is pretty gruesome." Hermione stared at him in disbelief, insults suddenly popping into her head that she wanted to through at the new Associate. She held her tongue, despite knowing that Malfoy's career here would be a failure, and that obtaining his job had been a crime in itself.

"The world is a gruesome place Malfoy! We saw so many horrible; frightening things during the war and a few photos of this makes your stomach turn? You've got to be kidding me. If you want to have a successful career here, I suggest you shape up. Plus, you should have seen countless of these images when you were studying for you law exams…that is…if you did take your law exams…" she said, a hint of accusation in her voice. There was a slight blush on his cheeks.

"I did take my exams, Granger. Believe all you want to believe in my lack of knowledge or maneuver within this firm, but I assure you, I will take this case, and I will make a fool out of you." With that said, he stood and grabbed the files from out of Hermione's hands, swiping the photos into the manila folder in the process and stormed out of her office. Her hand tingled because for the briefest of moments his hand brushed hers, and she felt such a strong wave overcome her.

* * *

It was Wednesday night and Hermione was done for the day. She had had meetings all since she stepped into the office, and had just finished her last one not but two minutes ago. She felt beaten to the core, and couldn't feel happier that it was the middle of the week, meaning she was halfway there to ultimately sleeping ten hours straight all day Saturday. However, she did not receive the owl that Blaise said he would send to her. No arrangements were made, and as the time slowly ticked away she found herself lost and half-insane with confusion and…hurt. She thought they experienced a grand time on Monday. Perhaps she was reading him wrong. Her door was wide open, knowing that no one was on her floor but her secretary, Aaron.

"Oh, Ms. Granger, I have a final message for you before you're gone for the day," Aaron said, waving a small parch-note in front of him, as if tempting Hermione to come and have a look-see. She sighed in exhaustion, her cloak draped over one arm, and her briefcase clasped in her other hand. She briskly walked over to his desk and stood there, waiting.

"Well, go on, read it out loud," she ordered. Aaron's smile faltered a little, making him seem almost nervous.

"Hermione,

My deepest and sincerest apologies, but I will not be able to make our Thursday dinner, and I don't think there will be any more dinner plan arrangements in the near future. Thank you for the wonderful luncheon we had on Monday, and I hope this letter does not jeopardize any friendship we may pursue in the far future. Good luck with work, and I hope this message reaches you in a time of good health, both mentally and physically.

Best,

Blaise Zabini"

"Well shit on Merlin," Hermione swore, her heart leaping into her throat in humiliation, hurt, and most importantly, anger.

"I'm sorry Ms. Granger."

"It's not your fault," she said with a shake of her head. There was a quizzical tilt to her brow as the words rang through her head. "I don't know what happened, nor do…nor do I care. It was only an hour. An hour of someone else's time…company I was hesitant to have in the first place. Yes. There." She had a glazed look about her as she confirmed to herself that Blaise's note did not affect her in such an emotional manner. After all, it was just an hour. She finally snapped out of it, and stared down at her secretary who had a pitiful look on his face. "You should go home. Damn it, I'm sorry Aaron, you should have gone home hours ago."

"It's quite all right, I love being here. I would stay here all day if I could," he said sweetly. Hermione couldn't help but smile at him. Since his arrival on Monday, she had gotten to know the sweet boy. He was a graduate from Durmstrang, was only eighteen, and had landed the job as secretary because he was studying for his own law exams and needed the money to continue to fund his education. Hermione was deeply touched when he told her that he aspired to be successful at a young age just like her.

"Well, I want you to go home now, get some rest."

"Well, I guess so," he said reluctantly. "I'll see you tomorrow bright and early?"

"Of course."

--

When Hermione waited for the lift's door to open, she had been staring down at her beige heeled shoes, quite intrigued by the patterns that decorated the top of it. They were her favorite Jimmy Choo shoes, and she always wore them with her Burberry suit jacket. She had an oncoming headache coming, so she released her hair from the tight constraints of her bun, allowing the brown curls to fall like a curtain around her face.

The ding of the lift sounded off and she looked up to see Draco Malfoy staring back at her. She cursed her luck as she entered the lift, making sure to keep distance between them. They hadn't spared any words to each other since Hermione assigned him the Armstrong case. He seemed quite cross with her and she didn't give a damn. It wasn't her problem.

"Aren't you going to say anything, Granger?"

"Like what?" she muttered. She stared intensely at the buttons running down one side of the lift. She wasn't particularly interested in them, but didn't want Malfoy to know that she was actually interested in what he was trying to say to her.

"A greeting perhaps?"

"Why do I have to initiate a conversation?"

"I wasn't asking for a conversation, Granger, just a simple hello."

"Well, hello Malfoy," she said quickly.

"Hello Granger…"

Hermione shifted from foot to foot. She cursed being on the 37th floor. It would be a long way down, but she was sure no one else was in the building but her, Malfoy, and Aaron. This had to have been the most awkward ride she'd ever had on a lift.

"I like your suit jacket."

Hermione turned her head slowly to the left to peer at Malfoy, astonished at the comment.

"Err…thanks…it's Burberry."

"What is that?"

"A Muggle brand, very stylish."

"Granger…stylish? How very strange."

"Yes, Malfoy. I couldn't be stylish at Hogwarts, now could I? I was in a uniform nearly every day of my life there." There was a pause and they didn't say anything for about a minute. Hermione continued to stare absentmindedly at the buttons, watching as the slowly reduced to a smaller number.

"Hey Granger..."

"Hello Malfoy."

"No, it wasn't a greeting," he said, looking down at her. "Did you ever…have you ever…?" He said quietly trailing off, as if battling the question within his own head.

"Spit it out, Malfoy. I'd rather not hear you stutter."

"Malfoy's do not stutter, Granger. I want to know if you've ever referred to me or have ever called me Draco."

She wanted to explode! This lift ride couldn't get any more ridiculous! She couldn't believe how eerie this ride had turned and it absolutely drove her up the wall in confusion. She thought about the question though, a blush coming to her cheeks. Yes, she had referred to him as Draco. In a dream when she was thirteen. It was the same night she had punched him across his face, and the dream entailed the two sharing a timid kiss, and she had called him Draco. She had woken up in disgust and for an entire week she would hex him behind his back whenever he made a comment about her and her friends.

"No, I have not, Malfoy." She shrugged. "Have you ever called me or thought of me as Hermione?"

He nodded. "All the time. I rather like your name," he said softly. Hermione fidgeted, her heart thudding loudly against her ribcage. She wondered for a moment if Malfoy could hear it and was immediately nervous all over again. "I sometimes wish I could say your name, instead of your last name. I think I would enjoy our time together more if I could say it."

"Are you drunk, Malfoy?" she asked with an anxious laugh, turning to look at him again. He smirked, and took a few steps towards her. She pressed herself against the lift's wall, a feeling of fear creeping stealthily up her back. He leaned over, his face close to hers with that damnable smirk still on his lips.

"I want to have another meeting with you about the Armstrong case. A few strange things have come up, and I would like a second opinion on how to handle them. How about we discuss it over lunch?" The lift's bell dinged, notifying them that they were in the lobby. Hermione stood where she was, her face heating up and her breath coming out in short puffs. She didn't realize how good he smelled and how lovely his hair fell into his eyes. She shook the thoughts from her head as he stepped away from her, running a hand messily through his hair as he stared at her, a mirthful glint in his eyes. She swallowed. "Goodnight Granger," he said hurriedly, stepping off the lift and walking across the lobby to the entrance, his footsteps echoing throughout the vast space.

She was completely lost for words, but strangled out a goodnight before he left through the revolving doors.

--

The next morning, Hermione found herself running late for work. Even though she was Partner and could basically come in at any time to work (unless there was an arranged meeting), she came to work every day at seven a.m. on the dot. She paused by in front of her office to greet Aaron and entered her office. Immediately she placed her stuff on her desk and moved to the blinds that were directly behind it. With a sigh, she pulled the blinds open and lifted the windowsill, a gush of spring air pushing through. There was a knock at her door and Aaron entered, a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Thank you Aaron," she said, taking a seat behind her desk and taking the proffered cup. She blew into it and took a sip.

"Would you like me to forward you your messages now or once you settle in?"

"Well, let me see the ones that have come in so far, and if there are any more coming through, send the important ones directly to me, and if they can wait, send them to my voicemail. I would like a copy of the Armstrong file in a bit, and can you please owl Draco Malfoy and tell him that I will be having lunch with him today."

.

A while later, a small owl came fluttering into her office, a direct message from Malfoy.

"Granger,

Meet me at my office at a quarter past twelve. I'm on the 40th floor, office 40ACD

-DM"

.

When noon came round, Hermione took the lift to the 40th floor, deciding to come early, the Armstrong file in one hand and her clutch bag in the other. Even though it was only three flights up, she didn't think that her high heel shoes could handle the journey. Standing in front of his office, Hermione realized that he had a corner office, which was usually large and saved for the favorite employees. This did not make her jealous; after all, she had an entire floor dedicated to her and her assigned workers.

Malfoy, unfortunately, was an exception. Although he worked under her and she assigned him cases, he had somehow gained power amongst Warlock and Madden. She didn't know if it was because of his name, or because of Blaise. She noticed that the door was slightly ajar and that Malfoy was talking, probably on the phone.

"Leave it alone, Blaise!" she heard him shout into the phone. "This isn't supposed to happen. Why? Damn it, you ask me WHY? Because you're a fucking thief! A bloody thief! You think you can get who ever you want? Well go find someone else and leave her alone. You're just looking for a quick shag mate, and you're not going to find it in Hermione—"

She jumped at the sound of her name. It sounded so…_sexual_…coming from Malfoy's mouth. She was disturbed at the sensual feeling that shot through her, but was even more disturbed by the conversation he was having with Blaise.

"I told you. I told you this when I was going to come work here. Don't get me wrong, this firm is fantastic and I know I'll prosper—" he paused, listening to Blaise. He made a barking sound of laughter and Hermione could practically _hear_ the scowl on his face, "you may have helped me get this job, but don't be so full of yourself Blaise, my credentials proceeded any of those foolish pricks who applied for this job. You know it, Warlock knows it, and I'm sure Hermione does as well," he said.

There it was again, the use of her name.

"Whatever mate, I just wanted to say thanks for sending her that owl. It's going to help. Yeah, I tried talking to her on the lift the other night and I think I pushed her too far…she got all…odd on me."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, no matter. That Mudblood better be grateful _someone_ wants to see what color knickers she sports."

Hermione seethed.

He paused again, chuckling. "Well, you _know_ what Lucius used to say. That I would die a hundred deaths if I ever went outside my creed." He paused again and gave a wholehearted laugh. "I don't know," he said softly. "I really don't know Blaise. Reading about her in the _Prophet_ or in the Law magazines, even in Witch Weekly…it just made me realize things. How many times do I have to explain it? Plus she's fit. Bloody hell, she's fit. She was wearing this cute little suit jacket yesterday and _Merlin_ I just wanted to—" he paused. "What? Fuck you Blaise. If I'm going to shag her, I'll do it before you can get your bloody hands on her. Conquest?" he laughed. "Of course. Ah…well, I should get going, Ms. holier-than-thou is probably on her way." He laughed. "Yeah, right. I'll tell her as much. Watcher Blaise, I'll have her knickers in a twist before the month is out…"

When she was sure he had hung up, Hermione couldn't help the anger from bubbling up in her stomach. So, she thought. Malfoy came to the firm with a hidden agenda? He was going to shag her? Get her to fall for him?

Well fuck him!

She knocked on his door finally, and he opened it slowly, a grim smile crossing his features.

"Granger," he greeted. "I'm guessing you're here for our lunch meeting? I thought that we'd go to the Leaky Cauldron, we should find a private room to discuss the case in and have lunch."

"I'd rather not Malfoy," she said stiffly. Why don't you order something by owl and we'll sit in here and eat and discuss the case? I'd rather not be seen with you in public."

He looked genuinely taken aback by her stiff attitude. She pushed pass him and entered the room, looking around at its décor. She smiled slightly, noticing the room held a lavish desk and executive chair. He had a conference table, and surprisingly, a small telly in the corner. There were no pictures of friends and family hanging about the room, and no touches that would remind him of home. Where home was, Hermione didn't know and did not care. All she cared about at the moment was that Malfoy was planning to shag her for his own disturbingly fucked up reasons. She couldn't help but take out her anger on him as she sat at the conference table, crossing her legs. Malfoy's eyes immediately locked on them and she blushed.

"Will you do the ordering, or shall I? I would rather like sushi, and I know a few good places…"

"Anything you want, Granger," he said, finally noticing her face.

"Yes, you're right Malfoy. Anything I want. I want to start on this bloody case and get this over and done with." He went over to his desk and pulled out a quill and piece of parchment.

"Well Granger, if you were going to be so damn snappy, maybe you shouldn't have come to my office."

"Shut it Malfoy, and get to ordering my sushi. The owl location is Mai & Song Sushi Bar," she said, watching as he wrote the owl location down. He looked good today, she realized. He was wearing brown trousers and a black collared shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There was no tie today, probably because of the weather, and the first button was undone. He looked flustered.

With a heated glare, Hermione thought about what she should do about him. There was no way she'd fall for it. He was a ruthless, heartless, mean bastard and she wanted nothing to do with him. The fact that she knew what he was up to made her shudder in disgust.

But oh…oh _Merlin…_how he had said her name.

* * *

**This chapter is over ****FIVE THOUSAND WORDS****! This has got to be my longest chapter ever posted on this website! Oh my goodness! Please review! This was a massive chapter! Please excuse any errors I might have in this chapter, I'll definitely come back later and edit them if I see any later, but I wanted to get this out to you all as soon as possible. THANK YOU FOR THE AMAZZZING REVIEWS FROM CHAPTER ONE!! **

Thanks again and please review!


	3. Chapter Three

**D. I.V.O.R.C.E.**

**Summary:** "Malfoy," Hermione started, "I want a DIVORCE—a D.I.V.O.--MMHPH!" DMHG. AN: will start off leisurely but WILL get to the point! STRONG M for adult-themes.

**AN:** Thank you all for the rave reviews! You can't believe how happy/excited I am to be writing this story and knowing that it's pleasing you all! Please, keep them coming! Constructive criticism is always the best! **There's a little bit of courtroom fever/drama in this chapters, so I hope you all enjoy it!!**

* * *

"A Vodka tonic, please," she demanded in a haughty tone, messaging her temples as she leaned forward onto her elbows. The waitress nodded, having taken everyone else's orders, and left the foursome alone. She had had three martinis earlier and wasn't feeling a damn thing and it was pissing her off.

"Vodka, Hermione? Not your cup of tea, is it?"

"Well, Harry, that would mean that it would have to be tea in the first place to not be _my cup of tea,_" she retorted curtly. Harry smiled slightly and turned to give Ginny a concerned look.

Ron chortled, "long day at work?"

"How about a long bloody week," she corrected, sliding down her booth and resting her head on the back of her seat. She looked over at Ron, who was sitting beside her and unceremoniously laughed. "It was a fucking week from _hell_ with Malfoy riding the waves of fire, if you ask me."

"That bad? Tell us what happened, love," Ginny said, scooting forward in her booth to hear Hermione better.

"Remember I owled you all and told you Blaise Zabini took me out to lunch?" they all nodded. Hermione liked to keep her friends involved through owl constantly. "Well, I didn't mention that he owled me back Wednesday night to cancel on me…and to summarize it all for you, the letter basically outlined that there would be no rain check in the future. He basically wanted me to shove off," they gasped. Harry was outraged, Ginny looked sympathetic, and Ron looked relieved. She hesitated. She didn't know how much she wanted to tell them about Malfoy.

"But why?"

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly. She chewed on her lower lip. "But I'm sure it's because of Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Harry repeated in confusion. "How does Malfoy factor into this?"

"Well, him and Blaise are mates, and I'm sure when Blaise told Malfoy he fancied me, he was convinced out of it…" she said angrily. "I don't care though, really, I don't. I'm not looking," she said all but too quickly. She pointedly ignored the looks her friends exchanged with one another and the awkwardly brief silence that followed. Someone cleared their throat.

"Regardless of your intentions towards Blaise, Malfoy shouldn't have said anything to him," Ginny said crossly. Harry and Ron nodded in agreement. "How pathetic."

"What a cock thing to do," Ron mumbled. The waitress had arrived with their drink, taking away the empty bottles and glasses, and Hermione took a much eager gulp of her vodka. The liquid flowed through her veins, a stinging sensation leaving her energized and awake. She took another swig.

"Really, I don't care about it…but, I recently assigned Malfoy a case, which I can't explain in full detail to you all, and he's been _hounding_ me for every little thing. I'm serious; he contacts me for the littlest of problems. It's all just really ridiculous and it takes away from my own work time. I'm stuck with this case until it's solved and stuck with him until he caves and quits," she said with a grumble.

"Don't you have the power to fire people?" Ron asked. Hermione sat up considerably, her mind working over Ron's question.

"Why yes I do," she said with a lopsided smile. "I could fire him." She hiccupped.

"But on what basis, Hermione? Just because Malfoy is a complete dick, doesn't mean you should fire a good worker," Harry said, the logical-side of him appearing at such an inconvenient time. Hermione slouched back in her seat, bringing her drink to her lips.

"Well damn it, what am I supposed to do? I should demote him," she muttered, earning an approving nod from Ron, Harry shook his head in disappointment. "Ah…" she said happily, pulling her glass back for another drink, but realizing that it was empty. She placed the glass down with a _clump_ and looked around her for the waitress, holding her hand up to get noticed, and trying her hardest to ignore Harry's words.

"Hermione, if you _do_ fire him, fire him for a good reason, same with demotion. You can't ruin someone's life when things aren't looking your way. Toying with people isn't right—Malfoy toyed with your chances with Blaise, and look, it hurt you. To retaliate will only bring more problems," Harry said. Hermione dodged any eye contact with him, still on her hunt for the waitress. When the woman finally got her attention, Hermione held her glass up and sent her off with a nod. She turned to face Harry, sighing exhaustingly.

"I could just bank on the notion that he might fuck up the Armstrong case…if that were to happen, I would demote him. It would show that he's reaching too high in this firm and needs to learn how to swim with the fishes before swimming with the sharks," she said triumphantly, pumping her fist into the air. Ron placed a hand on her arm.

"Maybe you should slow down," he said. The waitress had arrived with Hermione's new glass, replacing it with the old one. Immediately the glass was pressed to her lips.

"Shut up Ronald…anyways," she said, leaning back into her seat more comfortably, glass in hand. Ron had turned pink with embarrassment and closed his mouth after that. "If he loses this case I will have his balls in the palm of my hands." She gave a wild cackle of laughter and didn't notice her friends cringing at all. "I'm going to sack him if he botches this case up and if he embarrasses the firm in the process. I'll have the Merlin-giving right!" She hiccupped, "It's a damn shame that Malfoy looks the way he does…such a shame…and with such a dirty little attitude and…oh…" she trailed off, placing her glass back on the table and promptly passed out against Ron's shoulder.

"Oh bloody hell," Ron said, astonished. He placed his palm on her forehead and gently pushed her head back so he could see her face. He released her and she fell back against him. "She's out!"

--

The next morning Hermione awoke with a splitting headache. She stirred in her bed, the sheets tangled around her and a thin layer of sweat covered her body. She felt stuffy and compressed—as if the very room was closing in around her. It didn't help that this headache was also making her incredibly dizzy and nauseated. She sat up in bed, her arms holding her up as she tried to focus on her surroundings. She was definitely dressed in her sleeping flannel nightgown, and this was definitely her bed, which had always been too big for just one person.

She looked around her perfectly decorated room—the paintings were hung perfectly, the drapery matched everything, the windows were high and incredibly long, the walls were painted a light blue and the wood was of vintage oak, and her sheets were crisp and soft at the same time. Nothing was out of place. Not a single piece of furniture.

But she was confused. Her mind raced as dully as possibly through her horrible headache. She tried to swallow saliva but her throat was dry and it even hurt to try. She remembered the alcohol she had downed the night before and cursed her irresponsibility. Of course, she knew she was a lightweight; even two beers could get her stupidly talking. She rolled her eyes and threw the sheets off of her, pulling herself off of the bed and stumbling towards her door that led to her hallway.

When Hermione had made Partner at the firm, she had decided that it was time to upgrade in her housing. She had picked a lovely flat in the heart of London, loving the commotion and liveliness of the city. She had always lived in rather small, but modest flats, but was determined to move into a much bigger space. When she had found this particular place, she was quite pleased with her Muggle real-estate agent that she even snogged the poor bloke right in the sitting room. The flat was hot on the market and had several bidders before her. She had fought long and hard for this vast space, and like everything she debated and fought for, she won. Hermione moved into her new flat, Harry, Ginny, and Ron right along with her holding all of her boxes and belongings.

The hallway was long, with hardwood floors that did not creak; they were Brazilian Cherry wood floors, which went well with the pale contrast of her walls, lined with paintings that Hermione had collected over a short amount of time. The hall led to her lavish sitting room that led entry to four other rooms. One included the hallway that led to her bedroom, guest bedroom, and two master baths. On the left side of the sitting room was the next entrance that led to her office. The third entrance, which was on the right, led to her dining room and kitchen, and the last one led to her library, with a full bathroom adjacent to it.

Her friends often questioned her about her choice of estate. Why would she live alone in such a great big place? The answer, simply put, was that she was not afraid of being alone. She wanted to prove that she didn't need a house filled with noise when she could merely open the windows and get some of the city life to fill her flat.

It was quiet. She guessed that her friends had brought her back to her place, helped her change and gotten her into bed. She was forever grateful for their help.

"I see you're awake, finally," said a voice. Hermione turned on her bare heel to see Harry standing behind her in borrowed nightclothes. He was putting his glasses on his face, his hair rumpled and his compassionate green eyes still laden with sleep. "Ginny and Ron had work, so I decided to camp out here to make sure you had stop vomiting and I just decided to spend the night."

"Vomiting?"

"Yeah, you started vomiting when Ginny took you into the room to get you into some proper clothing. You kept complaining about being stuffy when we finally raised you from your drunken sleep at the pub. You're quite pushy, mind you. It took us awhile to get you to sleep," he said with a small laugh. He checked the spotless clock that hung above her spotless fireplace. "Ah…looks like I'm late. I told Ginny I'd pick up her laundry," he shrugged. "Do you mind if I take a quick shower and head out?"

Hermione was horrendously embarrassed. "Erm, yeah…of course Harry. You didn't even have to ask," she said, swaying on the spot, placing a hand to her forehead.

"Oh, yeah…nearly forgot…Ginny left a sobering potion in the kitchen fridge for you. She knew you would be hung over after last night. There's also a pepper-up potion in there as well, in case you're feeling a bit down," he said. "You know, for embarrassing yourself." Hermione smiled. Her friends knew her so well.

--

"Do you…err…watch a lot of movies, Granger?" Draco asked that Monday morning. It was impossibly too early in the morning for one of his little annoying episodes. He was currently leaning up against her doorframe; the Armstrong case tucked under his arm and a steaming cup of tea in his other hand. She was currently sitting at her desk, mounds of paperwork and books that weighed tons scattered about her desk. She was working on a tough case and had just finished a meeting with the clients she was briefing for the upcoming trial.

"Yes, you can say that," Hermione said, still reading the open text before her. "Why do you ask?"

"Well…the funniest thing happened to me last night. I found myself at one of those Muggle theaters that plays really old movies…there was this American film that was quite fetching…it was called _Ghosts._"

Hermione's eyes snapped to Draco's form. "Excuse me?"

"_Ghosts_, surely you've heard of it?"

"Of course I have Malfoy, but what does that have to do with anything? Shouldn't you be working? Or better yet, shouldn't you be prepping your clients for tomorrows opening statements and first round of witness testimonies," she mumbled. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that Malfoy was talking to her about _Muggle movies._

"Yes, yes…" he trailed off with a wave of his hand, "but, when was the last time you saw it, Granger?" he asked. Hermione huffed and threw down the highlighter she was using.

"About ten years ago, Malfoy." She rolled her eyes and fixed him with a glare. "Again, why do you ask?"

"Well, I thought it was great, and…"

"Malfoy!" she interrupted, "So help me Merlin, if you don't have a superb opening statement tomorrow, I will see to it that you're demoted and degraded by _Warlock_ himself!"

"Untwist your knickers, Granger! I just wanted to know if you would like to go see it with me tomorrow…"

"No," she said without much thought, picking up the highlighter she had previously been using.

"And why ever not?" he said through clenched teeth.

She shook her head, her eyes filled with disbelief. "Are you retarded, Malfoy? Did the Knight Bus, or something on the way here, hit you from your bloody Manor? Fuck off," she said angrily. He made no move to leave her office. She huffed impatiently when she realized he would not budge. "Why are you _bothering_ me? I absolutely despise being anywhere near you…how could you even ask me out to the movies?"

"It was either that or I was going to ask you to go shot-gun with me for tomorrow's trial. I just didn't want to be boxed around the ears by you. Believe me, I learned from the fury of your punches third year."

She looked up at him in surprise, her mouth slightly open by her shock, and her eyebrow tilted up in confusion. "You want me to be there?"

"Of course Granger, in case I get too tired, I could just hand everything over to you."

"Fat chance, Malfoy. It's very unprofessional to switch counsel in the middle of a trial, or worse, before it even begins. It means someone isn't doing his or her job right. I…I guess I could sit in with you…to make sure everything goes smoothly, this is your first case and all," she said slowly, watching the triumphant smile cross Malfoy's face. "But this doesn't mean I like being around you or anything, Malfoy, it just means that I'm taking mercy on your poor soul," she said darkly.

"So what about that movie, eh Granger?"

"I hate you, Malfoy," Hermione said dismissively, flipping through the papers on her desk.

"Ditto," he responded cheerfully, exiting the office, a renewed bounce in his step.

--

Dixon Armstrong, simply put in Hermione's words, was handsome. He was elegant, tall, and dark. His skin was healthily tanned (which Hermione thought to be ridiculous seeing that he spent most of his captive time in Azkaban, he should have been pale as death), his dark hair parted on the side and slicked back. He wore a set of expensive robes and there was a bright grin set across his face as he sat at the defense table, beside his attorney. His dark brown eyes twinkled. Albert Wickman was a terrible fright in the courtroom, and Hermione often had a hard time bringing him down in court. She had never lost a case, thank Merlin, and she had not lost a case against him, being the first to ever win against the wicked man. He was a defense attorney known throughout the Wizarding world for his boorish attitude and quick-winded catch on courtroom errors. When he says objection, he means it. Hermione had the pleasure of going out to dinner with him, before they became rivals in the courtroom. He was handsome, despite the ugliness he showed in the courtroom. Perhaps he was only that fierce when he was in court against her? She didn't know.

The room was filled with reporters, supporters, and family members from both sides. Many people were crying out the victim's, Natasha, name. Hermione absolutely despised courtroom drama, especially if it didn't work in her favor. She watched as Dixon Armstrong set her with an unsettling stare, his eyes narrowing in on her face. She turned away to stare at Malfoy, who was fiddling with his notes. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and leaned in.

"Malfoy, you should be slightly more organized. You have no idea how Wickman is…he's known for being an evil brute and he'll take you down if you're not ready," she whispered. Draco nodded.

"Don't you think I know that Granger?" he said, his voice incredibly calm. She wanted to tell herself that yes, he knew, but she thought that his calmness was just a slick veil that covered his fear. There was a lot of flashing in the back from cameras, and supporters were starting to really scream out Natasha's name, asking for justice.

"Order in the courtroom," shouted a Ministry official. "Decorum!" he shouted, his hand gripping his wand threateningly. The people in the courtroom quieted. "Your Honorable Judge Regal Watson," he announced. A beefy man dressed in lavish black robes came from the entrance behind the elevated platform. He sat behind his desk and frowned down at the courtroom.

"Ah, supporters! I haven't seen so many since Harry Potter was on trial for traffic violations some odd number of years ago…" he said, as if reminiscing. Hermione hid her snort, remembering Harry going to court for his little problems on the broomstick. "Let's get started."

--

**WEEK ONE**

Three grueling hours and a half hour lunch break later the courtroom was coming to a recess that wouldn't return until tomorrow morning. Hermione was quite surprised at Draco's effort within the courtroom. He was fierce and determined, and every witness that had testified was grilled and cross-examined ruthlessly.

"Now, Mrs. Elise, what time was it when Natasha flooed you the night of her death?" Draco asked. His client was up and he had prepped her enough to have her be able to testify. Mrs. Lauren Elise was crying in her seat as she dabbed a white handkerchief to her pale cheeks. Her lips shook as she opened her mouth.

"Oh, it was about ten minutes before her estimated death," she whimpered. Draco walked over to his table and lifted a thick packet of paper.

"I would like to introduce Evidence number 237, your Honor, floo records that showed that Natasha flooed her mother at the designated time of 7:57pm, exactly ten minutes before her death." He handed the paperwork to the Ministry Official, who handed it to the judge. "Now, Mrs. Elise, what did your conversation with Natasha entail?"

"She was devastated! She said that Dixon had abused her that night…he…he had threatened to kill her and she had locked herself in their bedroom, where she was able to floo me. She was scared, but…but…" Mrs. Elise started to break down. "I'm so sorry," she cried.

"I know this is difficult for you, ma'am," Draco said softly. "But please finish."

Mrs. Elise wiped her tears away some more and straightened herself out, albeit terribly. "I told her not to contact me, that I was tired of her calling me and crying about Dixon. She should've left him, she should have! But she was so scared…I…I abandoned my own daughter," she cried, sobbing louder. "I heard the door swing open and saw Dixon appear in the fire. He…he was so angry with her…she turned to me one last time and…and…cried out for me. Right then, I called Aurors to go to her house, but…they were too late…I was too late…" She cried out. "Natasha was a decent girl…she was so eager to please everyone…she was pure…innocent." She sniffed. Draco waited for her to calm down before asking his next question.

"Where was Dixon when the Aurors came?"

"He was no where to be seen. Later on, he said that he was on assignment in Singapore the night Natasha was murdered; said he had apparated there, or some hogwash. But I swear on my life, Dixon was there that night, in that very room where my daughter was brutally murdered."

"No further questions, your Honor."

--

"You did good today, Malfoy. I was really surprised," she said as they took the lift up to their offices. Draco shrugged.

"It could have gone better. If only Wickman didn't stomp me with his second witness…Doctor Ludtwitz, claiming that Natasha's death could have been suicidal, it would have gone smoother."

"You caught him though, you pointed out the marks on her neck from where Armstrong strangled her. It was obvious to the jury that this wasn't a suicide."

"I hope you're right. Wickman is making Natasha look like a damn floozy. Calling her irresponsible and dependant on her mother. Implying that she had many…what did he say—_acquaintances_, pure bollocks."

"Relax, Malfoy. You're doing a superb job. I'm really happy with how you're handling this case. Your style in court is admirable."

He smiled at her, "Thank you, Hermione. That means a lot to me."

She shifted from one foot to another, realizing just how close they were standing. He did not stop smiling at her, which sent uncomfortable shocks of confusion through her body. She shrugged. "Just don't stop your effort in court, okay?" The bell dinged, and she realized this was her stop. She got off without saying goodbye.

--

**WEEK TWO**

Dixon Armstrong was dressed lavishly once again. He sat in the seat beside the judge, a look of pure arrogance on his handsome face as he surveyed Draco coolly. He smirked in her direction, and even tossed her a wink. Hermione looked over at the jury with a tilted look of disgust and fury, hoping that the People caught every look this man was doing. It was the second week of the trial, the first having gone by in a blur. The despair, anger, and pain was obvious within the courtroom, and the supporters had not stop in their manic craze to persuade the jury in condemning Armstrong, which a week ago would have made the by-the-book Hermione shake her head in disgust. Now, she was very appreciative of their commotion.

"Mr. Armstrong," Draco started, strolling up to the man seated. "What's your profession?"

Dixon rolled his eyes, "I'm a Diplomat here in England from Syria," he said, his accent curling his words.

"A Diplomat? What assignment were you on here in England?"

"Objection, your Honor," Wickman stood. "Explaining his assignment is clearly a violation of the Oath of Secrecy for any Wizard Diplomat," he explained. The judge grunted.

"Not when the Diplomat is involved in a Homicide or any criminal act your Honor, _Lucille v. Madison_, a Diplomat was accused of killing a young woman, and was forced to explain the reasons for being in a foreign country," Draco said swiftly. The judge grunted again.

"Overruled," he shouted. Draco beamed.

"What was your assignment?"

Dixon shifted in his seat and nervously shot Wickman a look. "I…I wasn't on assignment…"

"So how were you granted access into the Wizarding UK?" Draco eyed Dixon. "Remember, Mr. Armstrong, you are under Oath."

The man said nothing. Draco took initiative. "You got it from Natasha," Draco started, turning to the jury and motioning to Dixon. "Did Natasha agree to marry you in order to keep you in the country, Mr. Armstrong?" Draco asked.

"Absolutely not! That is a lie!"

"I would like to introduce Evidence number 279, your Honor. Letters exchanged between Mr. Armstrong. I these letters Armstrong consistently asks Natasha to marry him so he could continue his stay in the UK. They were confiscated from a safe that was placed in his cellar during a warranted search, your Honor," Draco said, holding up the over-spilling manila folder. Draco handed it to the Ministry Official who then handed it to the judge. He sauntered back to his table to retrieve copies that he had made. "In these letters Mr. Armstrong begs Natasha to marry him, and in Natasha's letters she denies him—Mr. Armstrong," Draco approached the man, a copy of the letters in his hand. "Please read from the top."

"January 13"

"This letter dates back three months before Natasha's death, then?"

Armstrong bit his lip, "yes."

"Does January have any unique meaning to you, Mr. Armstrong?" Draco asked. The other man shrugged.

"My mother's birthday? Maybe _your _mother's birthday?" the man responded smartly. Draco glowered at him and the judge gaveled down.

"Be respectful in my courtroom, Mr. Armstrong," the judge growled.

"Did you not start seeing Natasha a week prior to this letter?"

"Yes."

"Can you read the highlighted section in the letter, Mr. Armstrong?"

"_You don't know how much respect you can get through my name if we are married, Natasha. You can have every thing in the world. I have known you for a week and I can feel a connection of true friendship between us. Romance will come soon, but you would be doing the utmost favor for me by taking my hand in marriage…"_

Hermione noticed the bewildered looks that had cross the many faces of the jurors. She hid her smile.

"…_You don't know what you'll be giving up if you don't agree to this union…simply think about it."_

"Mr. Armstrong, what was Natasha's response after this letter?"

"She of course said no."

"Please turn the page and read the highlighted portion."

There was a turn of the page and Dixon cleared his throat, "_Don't you want me to be here with you? I could live in the UK if you just agree to stay married to me. Don't fuck with me Natasha, you're treading on thin ice here."_ There were gasps from the jurors and audience. Hermione also gasped. Draco hadn't informed her that Natasha and Dixon were actually married, and based on the response of the courtroom, they didn't know either. But it all fitted. Dixon being in the UK, the threat of a divorce, the murder…but something was missing…something that would make Dixon want to stay…she noticed that Wickman had bowed his head in pure shame. _"I'll…I'll…" _Dixon stuttered, sweat gathering over his brows. _"I'll kill you, you selfish bitch. You thought beatings were bad?"_

The courtroom was silent as Draco drew in a breath. "How long ago did you write this letter, Mr. Armstrong?"

"The morning of her death."

"When were you and Natasha married?"

"A month ago…"

"How were you able to keep it out of the tabloids, let alone out of Ministry reach?"

Dixon squirmed. "I had some inside help."

"Who is this inside help, sir?"

Dixon shivered. He was incredibly pale now, his haughty expression completely gone. Hermione turned to see if Wickman would object to this. "Natasha's baby sister, Alicia…she's the reason why Natasha is dead!" he shouted. Their was a scream from the audience and everyone turned to see a petite blonde woman standing, her whole body trembling as she pointed at Armstrong.

"You bastard!" she cried. "I loved you…I loved you and you said you would be with me forever…I should have known, I should have known that night that you were going to kill her. You didn't kill her for me, you killed that bitch to save _yourself!_"

"OBJECTION YOUR HONOR!"

There was an insane uproar in the courtroom. There was the missing piece—Natasha's baby sister. She was the reason why. But with Natasha dead, Dixon could stay in the UK indefinitely and begin to see the younger girl without trouble and jeopardizing the technicalities of his marriage contract and stay in the UK. Despite this newfound knowledge, panic gripped Hermione. Wickman could ask for a mistrial, saying that this jury was tainted with bias due to the outburst.

"You can't expect for this trial to continue any further after this—" Wickman started. Draco interrupted him.

He turned to the judge. "I motion for a meet in chambers, your Honor."

"Granted, we will recess until tomorrow," the judge said, standing up and exiting the courtroom.

There was utter chaos in the courtroom as they exited. Hermione gather the material on her desk, along with Draco's and quickly followed him out of the courtroom, his body stiff as he followed Wickman. She found herself in front of the Judge's chambers, her arms filled with paperwork and Malfoy's briefcase. She could hear Wickman's voice raising through the door, the judge's voice crushing his, and then Draco.

"You're right your Honor, I would completely agree to the jury striking what was said by Miss Elise."

"That's ridiculous!" she heard Wickman screech.

"It's granted, Mr. Malfoy. Wickman, if I were you, I would seriously be thinking of alternatives right now…" the Judge said. "You're both excused." Hermione jumped with glee as Draco stepped out of the room, a look of ease on his face. Her heart fluttered as his pale face was alit with a healthy pink glow, showing his frustration and his happiness. It was a rare look on his face—such features. She was privy to this little shift in his demeanor and it strangely sent a rush through her.

"That was brilliant, Malfoy," she said in undertones as they made their way to a lift. "I heard everything…asking for things to be stricken from the jury during deliberation is utter bollocks and everyone knows that. It just doesn't work. Anyways, it was a brave move on your part, most lawyers would've choked or something…you thought fast on your feet for a novice." He stopped, his face expressionless, as if he had not been listening to a word that had came from her mouth. Suddenly, he turned to grab some of the over-spilling papers from out of her arms, having noticed her struggling. She paused, stumbling a bit into his body, as she was relieved of the weight.

"You shouldn't have to carry all of this," he said softly. Hermione shivered. She thought about the conversation she had overheard in Draco's office. How she was attractive to him. She thought for a fleeting second that maybe she was attracted to him too.

Fortunately for her, Hermione was a logical person.

--

**WEEK THREE**

"…Look at the man before you, and when you go back in that room, remember that this was a man mistaken, a man who was in love and who might have made some mistakes in his relationship, but would never kill the woman he loved."

Wickman walked away from the jury, his shoulders hunched with discomfort. Nothing like that went by Hermione. She was a hawk in the courtroom. She could sense the nervousness that emitted from Draco. Before he stood, she inconspicuously to a viewer's eye placed a comforting hand over his. Startled, he looked down at her, his eyes filled with a million questions, but one was so predominate it almost swallowed her: why?

"Because you need it," she said with a small smile. He nodded and stood to give his closing statement.

"The woman he loved was found dead, brutally murdered with hand marks on her neck that matches the defendant's prints. We have heard numerous testimonies that led us to the conclusion that Mr. Armstrong is not a nice man. He forced Natasha into marriage, had extraneous affairs with other women…" Draco said slowly, making sure the jury knew what he was talking about. "We have letters between Natasha and Mr. Armstrong that shows just how strained and horrible their relationship was, we have _evidence_ that Natasha was repeatedly abused by Mr. Armstrong. He was in this country illegally, and continues to manipulate our governmental services for his own needs. Indeed, look at the man before you. Look closely. There's a shell of human being who killed an innocent woman, a young woman, who wanted nothing more than to fall in love with a man. She just wanted to be understood, cared for—but her innocence was taken advantage of. This man ruthlessly threw her to the side. If you don't convict him, he might get a second chance to destroy another woman's life—take another innocent woman's life…and why would we want that blood on our hands?"

--

**AFTER DELIBERATION **

The courtroom was crowded and loud when deliberation took place. Hermione and Draco had left, finding refuge in the hall, where they stood silently beside each other. Hermione was scared to say anything, believing that if she did, it would be too much.

After a few more minutes, Hermione was about to turn to Draco to talk when Wickman approached them.

"I want to propose a plea bargain before the jury comes back, Malfoy."

"Sorry, Wickman. It's too late," Draco said swiftly, pulling his gaze from Hermione's. She cleared her throat but looked up to see Wickman glaring at her.

"Hermione," he growled. "Pleasure seeing you again."

"Same, Albert," she said shortly. Her face grew hot under his stare.

"You're looking well," he commented, his eyes trailing down the length of her body. She rolled her eyes. "So you're shacking up with Malfoy in this case?"

"Of course," she started. "We're a team." She remembered when she told Malfoy on the platform coming to work a long time ago that he was not on her team. That was untrue now.

"I'm sure you're his best teammate, eh? Keep his bed warm at night as well?" he asked rudely, jealousy obvious in his eyes. Hermione gasped, an insult already shooting out of her mouth, but Draco grabbed her hand and squeezed it, shaking his head. He turned to Wickman.

"Shag off, Wickman. And take your plea bargain and shove it up your arse," Draco snorted, turning and walking back into the courtroom, his hand still clasped in Hermione's.

-

"And what's the verdict?"

"We found the defendant guilty on the count of First Degree Murder, your Honor."

--

When the door closed behind them, Hermione couldn't hold in her laughter. She hooted with joy at Malfoy's success, smiling at him and forgetting that he was her rival, her enemy, the thorn in her side. He was simply a colleague who had won them a very important case.

"This is fabulous," Hermione said, moving to stand behind her desk. She reached over to pick up her phone. They were in her office finally, after leaving the courthouse in the Ministry as quickly as possible to avoid reporters. She dialed Warlock's line.

"I suppose," he replied with a small grin, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Martin, hullo. Draco just won us the Armstrong case and I wanted to let you know immediately…yes…this is a great success to our firm…yes…oh sir, haha. You're welcome, but you shouldn't be thanking me. He…he…was just fantastic in court." She laughed heartily as Warlock commented on her watching over Draco. "Oh sir, I assure you, this was a one-man show, and it was all Draco."

When she had finally hung up with Warlock, Hermione watched as Draco walked around her office, looking at the many pictures that hung on her walls of friends and family. He snorted at the professional-looking picture of Crookshanks.

She coughed, drawing his attention. "You know what," he started, turning to face her. "I think we should bring a case against Alicia Elise." Hermione shook her head.

"Armstrong is rich, and he's going to keep that Alicia woman out of prison, even if we do bring a case against her…she's also very high up in the Ministry."

Draco nodded in agreement, coming to stand behind her armchair to stare at her standing behind her desk. "Money is power in this world, Granger. Some even say it's the root of power."

"Money is the root of all _evil_, Malfoy, not power," Hermione said offhandedly, staring anywhere but at him as she moved to stand before her desk. Malfoy had found his way around the armchair before her, and brought his face glaringly close to hers and gave her a sickening smile.

"Check your Scripture, Granger…_Love _of money is the root of all evil_._ It's not money that is evil, but the act of loving something that can actually be poisonous and sinful…just look at this case," he spat in her face. Hermione reeled back at his comment, her face contorted with disgust and confusion all at once. She wondered how this conversation had turned in such a way. All happiness she had for Malfoy winning this case was sorely leaving her body.

"This case means nothing about love. This was not love. This was deceit, anger, and hate. What exactly about the act of loving _someone_ is wrong? Are you even implying that that's evil?" she asked heatedly.

"If it's wrong, then I would rather be evil than anything pure and good," he said quietly. Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. He slowly approached her, running a hand down her arm, gripping it and sweeping her into his arms. Her arms were bent, pressed against his chest, her head falling onto his shoulder and he cradled her to his chest. She wiggled her arms free to wrap about his neck, lifting her head up and standing on the tips of her toes to place a timid kiss on his lips.

They kissed, what seemed like to her, for hours. The softness of Malfoy's lips and the baby soft tresses was slightly wonderful. She wanted to kiss him like this forever—that whole complete nonsense that you only read about in silly romance novels. Hermione was filled with passion, lust…anger. She was filled with a lot of anger and was rudely reminded of it when she recalled that she was snogging Draco Malfoy in her sacred office.

She pushed him away, damning those soft lips of his, and held her hands up to ward him away. "Get your filthy hands off of me!" she yelled.

Draco ran a hand through his hair and stared at her incredulously. "Are you bloody insane, Granger? I believe it was _you_ who wrapped your arms around my neck egging me on to get closer…"

"Lies!"

"Oh, shove off!

For a split second, she lost control again. She threw her arms back around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He pushed her back against the table, and frantically lifted her so she could sit on the edge of her desk, knocking over her pristine clock. He ran a hand through her hair, and down her face. He pulled back and Hermione closed her eyes as he kissed her softly on her eyelids. He began to place feathery kisses all over her face and brought them back to her lips.

She shook him off of her, finally. Her face was red with embarrassment. It was soon replaced with suspicion. What if the argument they had just had was simply so Malfoy could rile her up to kiss her? What if all he wanted to do was sleep with her and leave her in a rut? She pushed him away completely.

"What? Was the snog not as wonderful as I thought it to be?" Draco asked with a laugh. Hermione's heart sank a bit more with embarrassment at that comment. She slid off the table, straightened her clothing and her hair, and walked over to her door, opening it.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Malfoy. I'll speak with you soon concerning how we're going to handle Alicia Elise, but for now…I think it best for you to leave."

"All right then," he said unsurely, running a hand through his hair as he walked over to her. He leaned forward and she quickly moved back, thinking he was going to try and kiss her again. He smiled. "I know that you were standing outside my door that time I was talking to Blaise on the phone. Believe me, I didn't know until you had entered my office and started acting the way you did. I won't yank you around, Hermione, if that's what you're afraid of," he said, watching the shock fill her eyes. He smiled once more and exited her office, leaving her staring after him. She wanted to know more. She wanted to know what exactly he was going to do, if not yank her around.

She would find out sooner than she'd hope for.

* * *

**Thank you for reading chapter three, but you can see why it took so long? It's over 7000 words! Lots went on in this chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed it. A little less humor in this chapter, sorry guys. Chapter four will be out…it won't take as long as this one, I promise! Again, thank you for the _WONDERFUL_ reviews from chapter two. If there are any errors in this chapter, please let me know and I will try to edit them. Thank you for _reading_ and _reviewing_!**


	4. Chapter Four

D. I.V.O.R.C.E.

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**Summary:** "Malfoy," Hermione started, "I want a DIVORCE—a D.I.V.O.--MMHPH!" DMHG. AN: will start off leisurely but WILL get to the point! STRONG M for adult-themes.

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**AN:** Thank you all for all the helpful reviews! I got a few tips on Hermione's strange reaction towards the end of chapter three and I will try not to have that slip up any more in future chapters. All the lengthy comments I adore and appreciate so much, thank you for taking time out to write those, I regard them highly. Also, I know it's been awhile since I updated this story, but don't worry. I won't keep you waiting like that anymore.

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**Additional Notes:** I wanted to clear up some confusion about the category of which this story is placed. I had originally decided this story to be Romance/Humor, but it's not a grip the side of your stomach hardy-ha-ha story, it's a romantic-comedy, to say the least. To explain further, it's lighthearted, with its small bursts of humor in it. It's meant to be romantic, but with so much more elements to it. I'm tempted to make it Romance/General, but I'm nervous to do so. Please, any advice on this would help me immensely.

* * *

It just _wasn't_ her day.

Her day of unfortunate events started when she woke from her heavy slumber half an hour late for work. She nearly screamed at the clock on her wall when as she jumped from out of her bed, hurrying to the bathroom to shower and dress for work.

She couldn't believe that she had overslept! She knew the day would slowly progress even more poorly, despite her hurried readiness. She had already read in a newspaper yesterday night that it might rain, and along with the panicky, wrenching guilt feelings from snogging Malfoy the day before, she could just feel the workings of a bad day coming on. This notion became reality when she stepped outside and was smacked in the face by a newspaper; a Muggle newspaper boy scurried away on his bicycle at breakneck speed, oblivious to Hermione's reddening face. With a briefcase in one hand, and her umbrella in the other, she stepped away from her house. She continued walking, deciding to take the bus to Kings Cross, instead of walking the long distance, not finding a cab in sight.

She glanced at her watch, and it was now closing in to nine am. She was nearly two hours late for work! She cursed softly under her breath and decided that she could not waste time waiting for a double-decker. Instead, she lifted her hand to haul a cabbie.

To her relief, one pulled up onto the curb she was standing on. With a sigh, she began to walk over to the car, but suddenly a finely dressed man ran up to the taxi, opening the door and jumping in. Hermione jerked back, a shocked expression on her face as she peered into the window of the taxi at the stranger. The man lifted his hands up, as he mouthed, "what can I say?" his expression careless as he shrugged. The taxi took off, and Hermione felt like ripping her hair out.

As if to rub salt into her wounds, Hermione heard a clatter from above, and was soon doused in rain. She quickly pulled out her umbrella, but a strong gust of wind had the umbrella turning inside out, rendering it useless.

She stood in the pouring rain, her hair matted against her forehead as she clung to her broken umbrella and briefcase in one hand. She lifted the briefcase to hold above her head as she waited for the double-decker to stop her way or a taxi…whichever came first. She spluttered as a car drove quickly past her, water splashing down her front. She dropped her briefcase and broken umbrella, a shriek coming from her as she shivered, and her arms wide as she surveyed her already ruined suit.

"Well, Hermione…" said a voice. She already knew who it was. She bit her lip, remembering how his had caressed hers just the day before. She shivered some more. It wasn't the rain sliding down her neck that made her shiver.

"Malfoy," she said, reaching down to pick up her umbrella and briefcase, but noticed that they were gone. She spun around to see Draco standing there with his hand out. He had picked up her damaged items. She blushed and took them from him, muttering her thanks. She finally looked him over. He was wearing simple denim trousers and a green polo. She quirked an eyebrow and realized that Malfoy should have been at work two hours ago as well. "Malfoy…why are you here, and why are you dressed like that? Why aren't you at work and why am I—"she started, but stopped as Malfoy lifted a hand to quiet her.

"So many questions, Granger... First, Warlock gave me a week vacation, second, I do know how to dress in a Muggle environment, Third, I am here because I was going to take the bus to some friends, and Fourth, I don't know why you're soaked to the bone in rain, I thought it was going to rain in the evening, but I always come prepared with an umbrella if rain is forecasted in the weather," he said in quick succession, "However small that prediction may be." Hermione spluttered.

"I'm having a bad day," she announced the obvious to him, holding her briefcase under her arm, her umbrella dangling from her other hand. Draco laughed and pulled her away from the curb, placing her under his own umbrella.

"Oh Granger, I can see that you're late for work," he added and grinned at her glare. "When in such a situation as this, why even bother going in? You should just…ditch."

A fluttering look of disbelief flew onto her face. "Excuse me? I don't ditch work, Malfoy." She rolled her eyes at his small smile. "If you haven't noticed, this is my life! I just can't ask for a vacation out of the blue."

"Who said anything about a vacation, Granger? This is a day off. Merlin, you haven't taken a day off since you made Partner, playing hooky once will not kill you or your career."

"I haven't taken a day off for a good reason! It's because of people like you that I keep going to work, regardless of how I might be feeling. You take your job for granted. You think your career will always be there, even though you abuse the somewhat lenient system that they have established for their employees. Warlock gave you this vacation and you took it. Do you think he'll forget this? He'll remember that you didn't turn it down and ask to be assigned another case by me. He'll remember that you're the lawyer who needs to catch his breath after every case. Good luck with such a reputation, Malfoy, but remember that it won't get you very far," she said. Throughout her rant Draco had rolled his eyes skyward, his free hand still curled around her arm where he had pulled her away from the curb. She didn't mind the hold, the tiny gesture sending strong shocks through her body as she remembered the kiss they shared just yesterday.

"C'mon, just take the day off and come with me," he said with a grin, looking her up and down, "I promise you it'll be an interesting event…" Hermione scoffed.

"Your friend's house? I don't trust you and I definitely wouldn't trust the people that find your company pleasing, Malfoy. Why the hell would I go anywhere with you alone?" she asked, pulling her arm from his grasp finally. She removed herself from under his umbrella and straightened her posture.

"Well, you don't very much know me, _Hermione_. You're basing my friends on me, and that's quite rude of you," he said evenly. He made a tutting noise, his look speaking pure boredom and exhaustion, "Look, you're having a day from hell, why bring that attitude to work? You wouldn't want to take that anger out on a potential client, now would you?"

She shook her head.

"We all know you have a fury that is not to be reckoned with, am I right? How would you feel if you were fired because of your attitude?"

Again, she shook her head.

"All right then, you agree that it would be a not-so-great idea to waltz into work right now, soaked to the bone, irritated, and moody, correct?"

She nodded, quite beside herself. She did agree on some level that it would be highly inappropriate for her to go to work in such a tyrannical mood. She would be wringing the neck of every receptionist and junior Associate in the building. Plus, she just didn't feel herself. But would she really play hooky with _Malfoy?_ Perhaps she should go home…

"And going home would just make you feel restless…" Malfoy said just in time.

_Oh no_, she thought, _he's making sense—and convincing me of all people that he's making sense. _

"Well, Granger. Congratulations. You're about to play hooky," he said, throwing an arm around her wet shoulders.

-

--

---

**Chapter Four**

When Hermione stepped off the red bus, she paused in shock at the establishment before her. "You…er…have friends here?" she asked puzzled. Draco nodded and got off the bus beside her.

"Yep," he said. She spluttered and continued to stare.

"Um…why?"

"I love them," he said simply, grabbing her hand and leading her inside. Immediately Hermione's ears were met with wild barking, soft meows and the rustling of wings. Draco had brought her to an animal shelter.

"Draco!" exclaimed an old woman. She had long, white hair and soft, blue eyes. She gave him a sweet smile and walked over, throwing her arms around him. "You said you would be here at ten."

"I'm sorry Miranda, I was held up," he said sheepishly, nudging Hermione gently. Hermione, still in a state of shock, shook herself out of it in enough time to stick out her hand.

"My apologies, ma'am." Miranda smiled down at Hermione's hand and disregarded it, launching forward to give her a brief hug. Hermione was startled, but hugged the older woman back.

"Well, will your lady-friend be taking care of the dogs today with you, Draco?" Miranda asked. He turned to Hermione and then nodded at Miranda. "Good, I would recommend some better clothes, girl. You might not want the pups messing up your fancy clothes and all," Miranda said shortly, walking over to the counter in front of the small store. She reached over it and pulled out a white t-shirt, looking at the tag. "Small…this should fit you," she said, handing the shirt to Hermione.

"Oh, thank you," Hermione said, taking the shirt and reading the front, "Miranda's Animal Shelter."

"Draco," Miranda chirped suddenly, a smile on her thin lips, "Rupert has been dying to see you, he's in the back." Draco's face lit up, making Hermione just a little curious about this Rupert character. Her look did not go by unnoticed; Miranda turned to her and gave her a peculiar smile. "I've got a loo back there too, if you would like to change."

With another thanks, Draco led her into the back of the shop, where the barking grew louder. She glanced around the shop, noticing all the adorable animals that wagged their tails and tilted their small faces upward to peer at her. She was quite taken with a small beagle when she heard Draco speak.

"Hey boy," Draco said happily through a cage. She turned to stand beside him. Inside was a shocking white Border collie puppy, a black circular spot of fur around his left eye. The puppy wagged its tail furiously at the sight of Draco. Hermione couldn't hide her cooing. "Rupert, this is my friend Hermione," he said to the small dog. Hermione stuck a couple of fingers between the bars and Rupert sniffed and licked her hand in salute.

"What a lovely pup, Malfoy. How old is he?"

"He's just shy of eight weeks. I'm going to take him home next week, actually."

"I didn't know you were a dog person," she exclaimed.

"I love dogs," he sighed. "This here is my best friend, I've been coming here for about a year now, and I took care of his mum. When she gave birth to him and his brothers and sisters, I just adored him, so I asked Miranda to keep him for me. You see, breeders for border collies bought all his other siblings. She kept him just for me—you're a special lad, aren't you Rupert?" Draco asked through the bars, eliciting an excited bark from the pup. He laughed heartily at the dog's response. Hermione stared at him in disbelief, not fully understanding this side of him. He was usually so reserved, smug, cruel that it bothered her to see this playful, sweet side of him. She wouldn't be telling the truth if she said that this didn't shake her up—that this didn't distort her image of him.

It did.

---

The day was taking off rather pleasantly, and Hermione was surprised beyond belief that she was having such a fantastic day with Malfoy, of all people. She had changed into her shirt, and transfigured her skirt into denim trousers, smiling at Miranda afterwards and telling her she had a pair in her briefcase. She liked the work that they were put to at the Shelter. She had taken several of the dogs outside into the courtyard for some exercise since the rain had stopped, cleaned out their cages, and had feed them. They were all so adorable, and she found herself cooing at each little dog, wanting to take them home with her.

Checking her small, delicate wristwatch she realized that it was a quarter to one. She was done with her chores from the morning and had retired to a small stool when her stomach gave a reprimanding growl. She was didn't know where a close food place was, and she didn't know if Miranda had any human food lying around for them. She was just about to give up on any prospects of food when she heard Malfoy come into the back room.

"Hungry much?"

"Starving!" she replied with a short smile. "Do you have a place in mind?" she asked, noticing her coat and his umbrella in his hands.

"Yes I do, right up the street is a pub with the best sandwiches you'll ever devour!" he said, his voice racing with excitement.

She laughed, "I hardly think pub food to be that fantastic."

"Well get up Ms. Granger, you're about to be surprised."

-

When they had entered the pub, Hermione's nose was hit with a mixture of scents. One, of course, was alcohol. The stench of beer was ever present in the air, and she was sure it was going to leave some lingering scent on her clothes, but the next, powerful scent, made the first one smell great. Fresh bread, with roast beef, filtered through the room. Immediately her stomach growled in anticipation.

"I'll have whatever is in the air," she said with a smile. Draco smirked at her,

"I told you, you haven't even bitten into a sandwich but you can already tell how good it's going to be."

When they had sat down and ordered, she couldn't help but complain about the waiting.

"I'm famished," she whined, thinking about Ron. She truly knew what he had meant by the word.

"It looks like we'll be waiting a long time," Draco noted. "See that lady over there?" he asked. Hermione turned to see an old woman, probably in her mid seventies, hunched over in her seat, a pint in front of her. It was half empty, and she appeared to be sleeping. "She was twenty when she came in here…"

She snorted through wild giggles and her eyes widened at the noise, humiliation written all over her. She covered her reddening face with her hands. Her ears were assaulted by Malfoy's giant chuckles.

"You snorted!" he exclaimed. "Hermione Granger snorts while laughing! Who would've thought?" he laughed.

"Oh Merlin," she said, all laughter aside. "I haven't snorted since I was a little girl!"

"And why not?"

"It was the number one reason I was picked on, besides my wild hair," she said, gesturing to her head. "I was a nerd, a bushy-haired girl, with braces and snorts for laughter."

"You had…braces? Those metal contraptions that Muggles put on their teeth?" She nodded. "Why in Merlin's name did you do that?"

"It was a Muggle way of healing my teeth," she explained. "My teeth were…all to pot. My parents are dentists, so of course they gave me braces. I was quite the sight, but…I guess I have to thank you for fixing my teeth completely."

"Me?" Draco asked, confused.

"Yes, fourth year, you struck me by accident with a horrid hex to make my teeth grow. I went to Poppy so she could shrink them…I just let her go a little further than she was supposed to and _boom_, I had perfect teeth," she gave him a wide smile to show off perfect, straight white teeth.

She saw a flash of guilt overcome Draco's eyes, but she disregarded it, knowing that addressing it would be too awkward of a conversation.

"But why are you ashamed of snorting? It's rather cute."

She laughed, "Bollocks, you know I sound like a pig!"

"Not true," he said with a shrug. "You don't look nor sound like a pig. Your snort is amusing, I like it," he said with finality. She was lost for words. With a quirk of a smile, she looked up to see the waitress bringing them their food. She picked her sandwich up and started in on it, a renewed enthusiasm coursing through her body.

---

When they came back from lunch Miranda was on their case about cleaning the mess the dogs did outside when they were doing their business. Hermione didn't object, for once in her life. She was excited to get back to work, even if it did require that she pick up shit and put away toys.

When she had taken off her coat and put on gloves, they were ready to work.

"Draco—you take that side of the courtyard and I'll take this one. After we've finished that, we can move on to the toys, and then after that we—" she was interrupted.

"—ah, Granger. You have to be in control of every situation, I see," he was laughing outright to his little statement. It made her mad and she placed her hands on her hips.

"Well, someone has to be in charge!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. And I feel like I'm an appropriate candidate. You're so busy kicking around that red ball in front of you that you either fail to see the severity of the situation at hand, or you're simply procrastinating and denying this situation."

"Always have to have some theory, eh?" he was laughing even harder. Hermione pouted.

"How bout I come by and smack that condescending smile right off your face, Malfoy?" she asked, stomping towards him. When she was about a yard away from him, she slipped on a pile of dog shit. Her arms swung this way and that, but she landed on top of the pile, a squishing sound reverberating throughout the courtyard. She squealed as she fell, her eyes closing and her throat gagging.

"DAMN IT!" she screamed.

Her ears were met with more outrageous laughter.

"Oh, do you think this is funny, Malfoy?" she barked.

"You…have…no…idea!" he said between laughs.

She made a noise of anger as she tried getting up from the pile of shit. She slipped again, her bum aching. "Ahh…help, Malfoy?" she asked. Draco, still in fits, went over to her to lend a hand. She stood with his help, Draco pulling with a little more force than needed so she fell into his chest.

"What a lovely position you've found yourself in," he started, but scrunched up his face. "You smell…just _lovely_."

"I'm sure I could smell any kind of way and you'd still find it lovely, Malfoy," she said. She didn't know why she was flirting.

"I know I would. I would find you lovely in any garb or with any scent attached to you…because as long as it's on your body or about you, I can't seem to tear myself away from you."

He began his laughing again, making Hermione grow pink with embarrassment. She turned away from him and started to walk towards the back of the shop, Draco laughing even harder as he saw the stain smeared on her bottom.

When he had entered the back room finally, it had been nearly five minutes. She was putting away her wand from cleaning the mess, her back turned to him as she slipped it into her briefcase. As she reached above her to put the bag back onto a high stack of cages, she felt a hand lightly caress her rear. Nearly choking on her own spit, she whipped around to see Draco standing there, a look on his face that spoke…well…that spoke amusement, desire, humor. She swallowed.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just making sure you were clean."

"Groping me is not the proper way, Malfoy," she hissed, growing cross.

"Don't be mad, Granger. I couldn't help but notice that you missed a spot."

"What?"

He moved closer to her, their bodies' mere centimeters from each other. She could feel the tension escalating to an alarming state, the heat between them becoming unbearable. _Oh Shite, _she swore in her head.

"Yeah, right here," he groped her again, making her jump into his unintentionally open embrace, or lack of. She gasped in the back of her throat, her body shaking.

"Don't touch me," she said aghast. "Are you mental?"

"I don't think so," he said quietly. "I'm sure you missed a spot."

"Are we really having this conversation?"

He slowly brought his hand up to cup the side of her face, caressing the soft skin underneath his hand, as if answering her question through this act. She closed her eyes, admiring and leaning into the touch. All noise seemed to have escaped her ears after such a touch. She lifted one arm to place on his shoulder, bringing him down so their lips could touch. He pressed them against hers, her mouth slowly opening under his and he gently kissed her. They didn't notice the curious look Rupert gave them, his little head tilting to the side as he watched them kiss.

"_Oh no…"_her mind screamed

Hermione was becoming drunk off of his kiss, falling deeper into a state of haziness as Draco deepened it, his hands finding their way into her hair where he cupped the back of her head, sliding his hands forward to cup her cheeks. She lazily clung to his waist, her body shaking as he pressed her against the empty cages that were stacked against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to hold him there, as their kisses seem to come to an end. She didn't want it to end so soon, so she made the biggest and most amazing mistake ever.

She slipped a hand under Draco's shirt. She felt him moan into her mouth at the sudden touch of skin. She was somewhat surprised to find his skin warm and soft. She had always thought in school that he was cold inside and out. This was a great surprise to her.

Their kiss was fueled once more, but this time with much more passionate. He gripped her, almost painfully, in need to feel more than just that touch. She was taken aback by the force, but clung to him, meeting his need and hers. She ran her tongue down the bottom length of his lip, gaining interest into his mouth. His hands snuck down to her waist and slid up her own t-shirt. Suddenly, Rupert gave a sharp bark, the two jumping away from each other in a fright, Hermione feeling the sharp stab that came with sudden fear. They turned to stare at Rupert and their eyes snapped to the door that was slowly opening.

"Oh! Here you youngsters are," Miranda chirped happily. Her eyes gleamed mischievously at the sight of them. "I was wondering what had happened, you know, the puppies need to be taken outside for their little break again."

Hermione found a spot on the floor to stare at as the door closed, leaving her once again alone with Draco and Rupert. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and refused to meet eyes with Draco. She heard him stir beside her, as if trying to figure out where to move first. "Well…" she heard him say. She nodded.

"Malfoy," she started, finally gaining the power to speak. "This…this has been a mistake…I'm so sorry that…err…this happened. Really, I don't think we should do this. No, I know we shouldn't be doing this."

She had looked up to see the blank expression on his face. She sighed deeply at it. Not knowing what else to say, she walked pass him and left the back room, Rupert softly barking after her, wanting her to stay.

---

She was out in the vast backspace of the animal shelter. There was a lovely cemented pavement that curved into a half circle that led to a spot where Hermione could take the animals to do their business. There were pet-friendly flowers planted in every nook and cranny of the yard, with a pretty white fence circling the area to keep the animals in. There were toys scattered about, tunnels for the dogs to run through and little stands with sitting posts that the cats could climb up on. She was currently working on a runt of a puppy named Apple. The small dog barked happily as she sniffed the grass underneath her, wanting to find a perfect spot. Hermione smiled at the small creature, but was terribly lost in her thoughts.

She was so caught up in these thoughts that she was completely oblivious to Malfoy coming up to her, Rupert quick on his heels. She shivered, turning around to see him finally. Before she could say anything, Draco raised a hand in silence.

"Before you say anything, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for my behavior back there. I should have paid more attention to what you were probably thinking. I just…launched at you."

Hermione raised a brow, curiosity getting the best of her—she kept her mouth shut.

"But I'm not sorry for kissing you. I'm not sorry for making you kiss me back. I'm not sorry for touching you and you touching me. I can never be sorry for that," he said softly. Hermione stirred and glanced away from him, noticing that Apple was sniffing Rupert. "I don't know what I'm doing, Hermione, but I know it's not wrong. It's scary, yes, and these…feelings I have for you…are scary. I never thought in a million years that I would be falling for Hermione bloody Granger," he said without malice, but jokingly. This brought a touch of a smile to her lips. "I'm fucking falling for you," he said finally, running a shaky hand through his hair. She froze at those words.

"How do you know, Malfoy?" she asked cautiously. She wanted someone to pinch her—anyone to wake her from this surreal dream. "How can you even accurately say, with confidence, that you're falling for me? You hardly know me."

"I've watched you," he admitted, but not without quickly adding, "But not in a sinister fashion, I swear. I just…I watch you. I know so much about you by the way you carry yourself. The way you dress, the way you talk, the way you don't drink coffee on Wednesdays because they're your busy days and you like to go at it with your head clear of any stimulants to show your strength, and the way that you sort of dress down on a Friday because you're going to the pub later. I know that you love clocks; you also love anything that's of a cream-color because it brings out the dark tone of your skin and eyes. I know that you wear your hair in a ponytail when no one is looking and secretly you despise buns because they remind you of McGonagall, and you were always afraid of becoming her.

"I know that at Hogwarts your favorite tree was the old, gnawed apple tree by the greenhouses, even though everyone hated that bloody tree because it was uncomfortable to sit against, you loved it and would escape to it whenever you needed to clear your thoughts. I know that when you punched the living daylights out of me Third Year that you felt the shock between us, like I did. I know that you confirmed the feelings I had towards you at the Yule Ball, when our eyes locked on the stairs. I know that since that day on the stairs, I vowed to get to know you, even if I did it from a distance.

"I was a coward, and I suffered watching you grow and explore things without me beside you. I was a coward towards my feelings and everything else in my life. But here I am, standing in front of you confessing everything I have learned about you through watching from such a distance, and how I yearn, how I…ache to learn everything about you. I'm falling for the woman I know from a distance, a woman whose personality is so strong, I can sense it from afar and know that everyday she gives me another reason to love her."

She simply couldn't say anything. The blood in her body had stopped circulating to her brain in a protest. She blinked a few times, the word love echoing in her head like a sick lullaby. The fact that Draco had proclaimed his feelings for her still flowed through her dead mind. She was scared—hell, she was petrified—at his blatant, out of place confession. All she could do was straighten out her shoulders, bringing her up a few notches in the courage department, and face him.

"I don't know what you expect me to do, Malfoy. I'm curious towards your confession, but I'm troubled with it. I don't know what you want from me, an admission to loving you? A romp with your superior or whatever harmful alternative situation you may have in mind?" She shifted uncomfortably, her heart thudding into her throat. "I'm simply trying to say that I cannot accept your confession, Malfoy. I just don't know you well enough to accept your interest towards me. I'm sorry, I just can't."

"Think about this, Hermione…" Draco said quickly, his eyes pleading.

With a final calculated look, she tore her eyes away from him and walked away, something she was doing a lot today.

---

The ride back to town was awkwardly quiet. As they sat a few seats away each other, their eyes catching with every bump the rocky bus made, making Hermione's lips curl, in the slightest bit, downward. She felt nauseas, ashamed, and terribly uncomfortable.

---

Much later that night, she stood in front of the pub she was supposed to be meeting her friends in that Friday evening, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with "Miranda's Animal Home" written across it. She hadn't the time to go back to her flat and change. As an alternative, she wandered the shops in the city and eventually sat in a muggle bookstore to read. It was, simply put, unusual to see her dressed in such a way at their little meetings. She was usually dressed in her work gear, but here she was, dressed down, having had a wonderful day playing hooky with her new…stalker? No. Scratch that…with Draco Malfoy, the man who was crushing after her.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot in an anxious manner, not knowing whether she should go in or go home to have an early start on her weekend. She didn't think she could sit through her whole gathering with her friends without telling them about Draco's confession. It was so, so, so sudden, this relationship dilemma. It was so new, like an open wound. She didn't know how to regard it yet, but it was there before her butt-naked and waiting to be addressed. She stood up straighter, reminding herself just who the hell she was, and entered the pub.

Music flooded her as she opened the door to the noisy pub, people were chattering, laughing, and just enjoying their Friday night all around. In the center of the pub were her friends, quietly talking amongst themselves in the poorly lit area. Ginny had a Miller in her hand, Harry had nothing in front of him and Ron was downing what she believed to be vodka. She was unsure about the situation presented in front of her. Something seemed incredibly off about the three of them. As she approached the table, they all looked up at her.

"Whoa…Hermione," Ron said. "What are you wearing?"

Ginny smiled, "Same thing I was thinking…where are your work clothes?" she asked. Harry nodded.

She took a seat beside Ron and shrugged. "You guys wouldn't believe the day I had," she laughed.

"Same here," Ron said with a shake of his head. "You know Malfoy Manor?" he asked suddenly. Hermione jumped at the mention of Draco's home. She nodded. "Burned down tonight…everything was burnt to rubble. The Malfoy's were said to be in the house. There are Aurors on the scene trying to clean up the mess—a rescue team as well so they can find them."

Hermione gasped.

"At least you don't have to worry about Malfoy being on your back—" she heard Ron start.

"It was a ruddy mess, that accident. We don't know how it started but it was horrible—" Harry said with exhaustion.

She was completely deaf to what they were saying after that. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, to be honest. Her day had been pleasant, sans Malfoy's confession. The thought of something this tragic happening was completely absurd. She stood suddenly, her friends asking her what was wrong. She didn't know what to do. All her thoughts were fighting with each other. One was telling her to wake up—that she didn't want Malfoy in her life and this was all just a big mistake. The other thought was telling her to just accept the fact that he liked her, that there was something about him that peaked her interest. That even despite this internal conflict, she still cared that her colleague might be hurt. Plus, she would never forgive herself if Malfoy had died while she was drinking, his body trapped and dying under burning bricks.

"Hermione, sit down, people are starting to stare," she heard Ron say.

"Where would he be?" she asked herself aloud.

"Who? Malfoy? Hopefully buried under that house with his parents," Ron said with a laugh.

It clicked in her head. She turned and walked out of the pub, oblivious to the shouts that were coming from her friends.

-

There was a loud rustling of a giant engine and puffing of smoke as the red bus left from behind her. She stood on the sidewalk, her eyes taking in the sight of the dark animal shelter, a small light on in the front window. "Lovely," she whispered with a smile. She walked up the path that led to the little place, and knocked. None other than Draco Malfoy opened the door.

She threw her arms around him, her body crushing against his as he swept her into an embrace. "I'm so sorry Draco."

"It's all right…my parents weren't home," he said softly, understanding her. "They're away in Germany and—"

"What?" she asked, pulling back. "But there are Aurors all over your house looking for them!"

"_Still_? I sent an owl telling them to call off the search."

She stood stock-still, disbelief written on her face. She shook her head, "then what are you doing here?"

"I had no place to go, Granger," he said in annoyance. "Where else was I supposed to go?" he asked.

"Blaise's?" she offered feebly.

"Away in France for a seminar…" he answered. "I'm homeless for the time being, all my things were at the Manor, and despite everything having a protection charm on it, a simple Accio won't bring them back right now. Not with all the wards hovering above the place administered by those incompetent Aurors," he spat. She stood there, not knowing what to say. "Miranda said I could come here though, she's got a cot in the back. I can even play with Rupert a bit, as long as I don't disturb the rest of the puppies…" he said with a smile, as if playing with the puppy was the only concern in his life right now.

Hermione shook her head, her hand reaching out to grab his. "You're so…bloody stupid," she said. She laughed. "You're so…" she trailed off, pulling him into her arms for a hug. She could sense Draco's confusion. At this point, Hermione made a vital decision. "Come back to my flat with me," she said slowly, as if allowing the words to register in her own head. She looked up into his doubtful face. "Really, I have a guest room. You don't have to sleep on a sofa…or worse…in my bed," she said with an uncomfortable laugh. It was met with an even more uncomfortable silence. Draco cleared his throat.

"I suppose I could spend the night," he said with a shrug. He still looked bit concerned about the whole arrangement, which made her want to drill a reason out of him.

Before he turned back into the shop, she grabbed his arm. "Listen to me…" she paused, words quite lost to her, "about earlier…I'm just…scared. I'm scared of whatever is going on between us…I don't even know what it is…why…how…I just want you to know that I'm scared." She could see a flicker of acceptance in his eyes, and with that, he turned back. She patiently waited for him to say goodbye to Miranda and Rupert.

---

"So, I hope you live in a respectable home, Granger?" he said teasingly as they walked down her street. They had just taken the bus back, not wanting to apparate in a Muggle-filled area, and she couldn't remember a more wonderful time she had walking down her street. Draco had wrapped an arm lazily around her shoulders, bumping into her occasionally. She scoffed and looked up at him with a smirk.

"C'mon, Malfoy. Respectable hardly explains my home—that's such an understatement," she boasted. She stopped in front of the large flat, looking up at the second floor and pointing. "That's my home," she said, earning an approving nod from Draco.

"Seems sizeable…nice area…cute shrubs," he said critically, but it made her laugh at the serious look on his face. She shook her head and slid a hand into her pocket, going for her keys to open the second entrance that was in the foyer of the flat. She opened it, and at that moment, Draco gently pushed her into the doorframe, a devious look on his face. Before she could complain, he had planted his soft lips on her slightly chaffed ones. The combination was heaven.

She was startled out of the sudden snog, however, when there was a loud crash from the stairs. She looked up to see Ron standing there, a look of utter horror on his face. He tripped down the few steps it took to enter the foyer. Hermione jerked away from Draco's touch and instead, took a step back to allow Ron to enter the foyer. He opened the door she had just been pushed up against.

"Hermione…" he started, confused.

"Ron, what are you doing—?"

"What…what is he doing here? With his face on your face?" She could smell the vodka radiating off of Ron's form. It made her stomach churn.

She paused. She could simply lift her chin to show that bit of Gryffindor courage she was known for, or she could cower under his intensely perplexed expression and lie. But what would she be lying about? What was she actually hiding? A new romantic entanglement with a boy they used to hate at Hogwarts? How about a casual get-together with colleagues or perhaps a friendly romp between boss and employee? She sighed.

"I'm so sorry Ron, but I'm much too tired to explain why Draco is here. It's simple enough, you saw him and me in a romantic entanglement, and you are incontrovertibly confused about the many situations that may have led to this confounded conclusion…" she rambled. The look on Ron's face tittered between utter bewilderment and disgust.

"Don't try and bullshit out of this situation, Hermione, with your fancy lawyer-talk! Here are the facts, Miss. Lawyer—you were caught red-handed with this bastard in your flat. You had your lips pressed against his. You were kissing him back. You looked…pleased," Ron said the last word with much difficulty, a tad bit of sadness evident in his voice. "Just tell me the truth, Hermione. We're all grown here. Tell me what he's doing here, and don't play it off as some work-related meeting. That doesn't require his lips on your face." Hermione shifted her weight from one foot to another. She swallowed saliva in a dry mouth, her lips tingling as an after effect of her and Draco's kiss. In the end, she once again did what seemed most logical to her. Tell the truth—a most important virtuous act.

"Ron, I can't really explain this the best of ways because…I don't know much about it myself. I'm sorry this happened, I mean, you finding us like this, I can only imagine how shocked you are. But really, you have to understand…" she paused. She looked over at Draco. "I don't know what I'm doing," she said with a shake of her head. "I don't know what I'm doing…"

Ron crossed his arms and lowered his eyelids, giving her a flat look, "You know what you're doing because he's here, Hermione!"

She shook her head, becoming cross, "This is all too much for me right now, Ronald! I can't explain what the hell is going on between us because there is no us!"

"Are you shagging him?" Ron barked.

She blushed but managed a scandalized look, "Absolutely not!"

"Are you done interrogating her, Weasley?" Draco asked, boredom rolling off of his tongue, as if he was fluent in dullness itself.

"No I'm not!" Ron shouted, his face become hot with anger and irritation. "I'm not leaving until I know she's not under some hex…"

"Ron…" Hermione grabbed him by his shirt, jerking his massive form forward. Although Ron was taller than her, bigger and wider and stronger, Hermione had an air about her that would rival Ron's own mum. At this, Ron grew quiet and fearful. "NOTHING, and I will repeat, NOTHING is wrong with me. I am NOT under a hex, and I am NOT shagging Malfoy nor will I EVER shag Malfoy. To be brutally honest with you, he is here to sleep and only sleep. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am…I mean, of course, Hermione…"

"Good. Now go home, get some rest, and I will owl you tomorrow, all right?" He nodded. And with that, Ron jolted.

When he was nothing but a dot down the street, Hermione sighed deeply, her body sagging against the doorframe. She looked up at Draco briefly, fiddling with her keys. "Time to go in," she stated, turning to move through the door. She caught a glimpse of his nod as he followed her into his flat.

Throwing open her door, Hermione flicked on the lights, illuminating her home. She heard Draco make a slight noise of surprise.

"You're an art collector?" She nodded. "_Very_ nice, Granger…" he walked in, looking about. "I didn't know you had such taste. I'm very please," he said, continuing his comment from earlier. "Interesting sitting room…each door leads to a hallway?" She nodded. "That's excellent…" he faced her and smiled lightly at her.

"Thank you," she said, diverting her eyes. "I suppose I can show you to your room." Opening one of the doors, Hermione led him down her hallway where the guest bedroom was located. The room was nicely sized, with a large bed and deep blue sheets and trimmings against a pale blue. The furniture was dark, the floors hardwood, with rugs to accent the palette of the room. "Here it is…there's a bathroom, er…there's an extra change of men clothing that Harry and Ron have left here, they're all clean."

Draco made a face at the mention of the clothes, but nodded regardless. "I really appreciate this, Hermione…" She mumbled a _no problem_. After a pause, she shrugged and decided to leave Malfoy to his own devices. After shutting the door behind her, she leaned against the opposite wall, taking a deep breath.

What was wrong with her? Did she really have Draco Malfoy, the man who was infatuated with her, in her house? She lifted a hand to her forehead. This was bad—anything could happen in this house, with just the two of them, alone. What scared her the most about this situation, though, was the notion that she wouldn't be completely adverse to any actions that Malfoy might initiate with her.

She was completely startled out of her thoughts when Draco had swung open the door, staring at her.

"Hello," he said. "I was wondering if you had anything to eat?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, just follow me," she pushed herself off the wall and started down the hall. Immediately he was around her, his hands wrapping themselves around her body. She shrieked in surprise and fear at the sudden contact. Her back was soon pressed against her wall, Malfoy's lips attacking her own with a fierce force that left her trembling in his arms. She placed her hands on either side of his face, pulling at his hair as the kiss deepened. Her head fell back against the wall, a moan escaping her lips and Malfoy attacked her neck. Her knees grew weak as a fluttering feeling erupted in her stomach, sending tingles up her spine. She felt him rest a hand over he breast, softly kneading it. She lifted his face back up to meet her lips again. She was completely taken by this feeling in her stomach, her body egging her on, but her brain screamed for her to stop. There was something illogical about all of this. She opened an eye to stare at the blurry image of Malfoy. His eyes were closed as he kissed her. She didn't know what to think. She simply couldn't accept any type of relationship offer—did she like him? Or was it a sexual attraction? Did he _really_ like her, or is this a ploy to get into her trousers? She didn't know and it was making her do these rash things like kiss Malfoy three times in a day.

What would they do at work? How would they be able to work together? The kiss was maddening and she had to pause in her thoughts to be fully ravished by Malfoy. Soon she found herself on her back in the middle of the hallway, Malfoy on top of her.

She just couldn't…this was her colleague, her rival, her enemy…But he made her feel so good…

When she felt saw him removing his shirt, she was completely thrown off the horse of her thoughts. Before her was a beautiful man. He was proportionate, muscled, smooth. She felt the familiar lurch of desire in the pit of her stomach, and it had been such a long time since Hermione felt anything like that. She ran a hand down his toned stomach.

He leaned in for another kiss.

She didn't stop him after that.

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I'm just going to leave off with that, this chapter is nearly 9,000 words long and I feel like anymore will just kill me. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter…a lot happened, and will continue to happen. You can imply from the ending of this chapter what is about to happen. There will be consequences, rivalries, and some drunken fights in the coming chapters. For now, please leave me some wicked reviews! Thank you! Also, I tried reading this through a couple of times, if you find any errors I apologize greatly. If any of these errors are nerve wrecking, please inform me and I will edit the mistake.


	5. Chapter Five

**D. I.V.O.R.C.E.**

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**Summary**: "Malfoy," Hermione started, "I want a DIVORCE—a D.I.V.O.--MMHPH!" DMHG. AN: will start off leisurely but WILL get to the point! STRONG M for adult-themes.

**Notes:** I know that this might be super annoying to you all, but the updates will be slow. It will not take as long as this chapter did, but they will probably be updated between 2-3 weeks and shorter than my usual length. I want to make this story fleshy, but not incredibly long. Have you seen those stories that are like, 50+ chapters? I don't want to do that, seeing that I have like, 22498598 unfinished stories on this site. Life is getting in the way of my writing, not only this type of writing but just my freelancing as well. I hope you all stay aboard with this story. Your support and enthusiasm for this story has really prompted me to not give up. Thank you so much!

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When Hermione awoke the next morning, she noticed more than just one awkward, uncomfortable situation before her. Firstly, she was naked. Secondly, there were arms wrapped tightly around her body, and thirdly, something stiff was resting between her butt cheeks, making her want to stay incredibly still to avoid any movement or _rousing _from behind.

There was a loud snore and she cringed. There was _definitely _something amiss with her current situation—it was just _wrong_. Events from last night began to flood through her—the undressing in the hallway, the sweat between their bodies, the moans that escaped her lips as he touched her, the kisses from her breasts that traveled to her—well, so on and so forth, they eventually made their way to the bedroom. They did so many…unorthodox things. Just remembering it made her hot and bothered, but the creeping of shame began to spread from her cheeks and onto her chest like a fever.

She held her breath when he began to stir. His hands retracted, and she was for sure he was awake and ready to _talk about it_. But she was wrong, he was simply changing positions, turning onto his stomach to achieve sleep more comfortably. With that, she slipped from out of the bed, nearly tripping over the sheets to do so. She spun on spot, grabbing up the sheet to wrap around her body, realizing that there was a scatter of bruises on her upper thighs. She nearly choked on her own saliva at seeing them. With a quick glance at the man in her bed, she stealthily tried to remove the sheet fully off the bed, without waking him. When it was finally wrapped around her naked body, she hopped backwards, becoming slightly tangled. She realized that this whole time she had been holding her breath and decided to release a strangled sigh. She regretted it quickly after. Malfoy had turned onto his back, his body becoming free of the comforter and his body exposed to the world around him. She gasped, stepping backwards and actually tripping over the sheet this time. She fell to the floor hard and in a noisy mess, completely startling Malfoy from his sleep.

As she scrambled on the floor, she grabbed at the sheet to cover her body once more, which had become uncovered on her way down. When she looked up, she stumbled right into Draco's drowsy yet at the same time fully startling gray eyes. "Morning," he rumbled out, his baritone voice hitting her right in the chest. She wanted to moan, but held it in. Truth be told, she was totally infatuated with that voice. She remembered just how wonderful her name had sounded when he was shouting it to the rooftops last night.

"Good morning," she whispered.

"It's definitely a good morning…" he replied sweetly. She dropped from out of their staring contest; her skin was hot enough without him staring at her like that.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked, not looking up. She found a blemish on the floor to stare at with interest. She didn't know what else to do but offer tea—she, and possibly every other English person in the British channel, felt that it was a solution to an array of problems and awkward situations.

"Yeah, I would like that a lot actually," he said. She could hear the smile that played on his lips without even looking up. _He must be laughing at me,_ she thought. She tried standing with the sheet around her, but found the task difficult, as part of it was wrapped tightly around her knees. "Hermione, love, perhaps you should just _drop_ the sheet. I saw it _all_ last night…even the little birthmark on your inner thigh…"

She was blushing furiously now. She stood, refusing to drop the sheet from around her. Slowly, the sheet began to loosen around her so she could walk. Her eyes met Draco's and she could feel the pull between her and him. Instead of joining him on the bed, as her body greatly desired at the moment, she turned to her wardrobe closet and pulled out a robe. She threw the robe over her shoulders

"I'll just be a second," she softly said, the sheet dropping to her feet as she closed the robe.

-

As she stood in her kitchen, boiling water, she realized just how ridiculous this situation was. Here she was, standing in her kitchen, naked under a robe, fixing tea for a man she had slept with after years of unadulterated hate between them. A man who was not only racist but possibly even sexist as well—he was probably _enjoying_ the fact that she, Hermione J. Granger, was playing the role of the _little woman._ With a twitch and a huff, Hermione stormed out of the kitchen, both teabags in hand, and threw open her bedroom door.

"Get the _hell_ out of my house!" she demanded, throwing one teabag at Malfoy's head. Draco, who had seemingly attempted to go back to sleep, was quickly jolted out of the notion, especially with the wet teabag sliding from his face to plop shamelessly onto his chest.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Malfoy! I said get _out!"_

"Are you mental? You just offered to make me tea," he said, a small smile on his face. Hermione was getting near damned tired of those idiotic smiles of his.

"I AM mental! Mental for shagging you and mental for suggesting tea! There will be no more of the two in this house or anywhere else Malfoy! Last night was a grave mistake-"

"But Hermione, love, you told me that you've _never_ had a man so deep inside of you in your entire life—"

"And it'll never happen again, Merlin be my bloody witness and—"

"And how wonderful it felt to orgasm without having to pleasure yourself in the process."

"OH BLOODY HELL!" she cried in frustration.

"That's _exactly_ what you said while we were making love. Why don't you just forget about the tea, and you can come back to bed, eh?" he asked, extending an arm to invite her back into the bed. Furious at his lack of cooperation, Hermione flung the last teabag she had been holding at him, smacking him against his bare chest.

"Ouch, Granger! You have a mighty hand."

"I SAID GET OUT!" she screamed. "GET OUT!"

"I don't understand what your problem is!" he shouted back, growing cross. "We didn't _shag_…we made love Granger…"

"No we did not, we destroyed the barrier we had between each other! That wall is gone now. It's demolished and what's left are two _very_ incompetent people staring stupidly at each other!"

"Exactly, stupidly in-love."

"No Malfoy! I refuse to base a relationship on one night, one bloody mistake. I can't deal with this right now, I don't want to BE with you! Get that through your thick skull."

"Well Granger," Draco's voice icy. "I'll leave you alone…since the notion of me being near you is revolting." Draco stood from the bed and immediately searched for his clothes that were scattered about the room. She stood there impatiently watching him, her hands still wet from the teabags that were now on the floor.

She was startled with the kettle starting to whistle. Turning around to head to the kitchen, she saw from her peripheral vision that Malfoy had began to tie his trainers.

She was sitting at her eat-in kitchen counter, her head bowed over a cup of tea and a hand resting on her forehead, attempting to keep her afloat. She sighed deeply and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, before she could even phantom words to throw at him.

"You should be! You manipulated me last night."

"I didn't do anything you didn't want me to do."

She glared at him. He was telling the truth, after all. What else could she do but glare and continue to tell him to leave?

"Last night was a horrible mistake. I can't even look at you right now, let alone look and interact with you at work. I can't believe how irresponsible I was last night…"

"Just write it off as a really good one-night stand," Malfoy said, deflated.

"I think I might do just that," she said, sipping her tea.

"Can you at least offer me a cup?"

She glanced up at him, a look of pure exasperation on her face. With a roll of her eyes heavenward she slid from off of her stool to fetch him a cup of tea.

"What prompted you to live alone, eh?" Malfoy asked, his voice casual, taking a seat across from where she had initially been seated. She sat a cup in front of him and went back to her seat. She noticed that he didn't touch the condiments in front of him; but rather drank his tea plainly, just like her.

"Well, at first I wanted Ginny to live with me."

"The Weasel's sister?"

Hermione scowled but nodded nonetheless, "the rent was too expensive for her. She was living with a bunch of friends from her year, but eventually moved into Harry's house."

"Are they married?"

"No, just dating. I'm sure they'll be engaged in no time, Harry's absolutely smitten by her…" she took a sip from her tea, "and she is by him. It's a truly lovely thing to see."

"You didn't have anyone else to ask?"

"Well, I had half-a-mind to put in an ad for a roommate, but I wanted this to be my own home. I just dropped the whole notion of having a roommate."

"How often does Weasel come around?"

Hermione shrugged, "once every couple of weeks. He only comes by when something's astray, for example, last night. I sort of left them at the bar without an explanation." Hermione watched Malfoy's face light up with curiosity, a tiny smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Why would you do that?"

She huffed, quite embarrassed, "I heard that your house burned down, and was afraid for your safety," she answered truthfully. He reached across the table to grasp her hand and Hermione flinched, attempting to pull her hand away, but failed.

"I knew you cared…"

"You could've been a stranger to me Malfoy, and I still would be concerned."

"Ah, but you _left to_ come _look_ for me…"

"It's not a major deal, please…"

"Just admit that you fancy me. I fancy you."

She shook her head in disgust, "I heard you talking to Blaise about me on the phone, you just wanted to shag me…you're just attracted to how I look, for some odd reason, but you don't want a serious relationship with me."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his grip on her growing stronger. "I told you I wouldn't yank you around…"

"I don't trust you, Malfoy. I'm taking your advice, sadly, and writing this off as a one-night stand. Then, on Monday, I'm suggesting to Warlock that you be put under a different Partner."

"Hermione!" Malfoy shouted, shocked. His hand retreated from hers. "You can't mean that!"

"Of course I do! We've crossed the line between boss and employee. I can't have an office romance with you, Malfoy. It's unprofessional. Merlin! Listen to me talk, as if the idea of being with you _might_ be a possibility," she gave a mean little laugh, "I don't want anything to do with you."

Suddenly, Draco stood from his seat. The sharpness of his motion made her flinch back, nearly falling off of her stool. "Stop this now," he hissed. "I know why you won't allow yourself to fancy me."

She gave him a look of absurdity, "Because you're a git. You're a racist. You're a liar. You're a sexist. You're a whore. You're a Death Eat—"

"I'm NONE of those things!" he shouted.

"Really?" she screamed, her voice louder than his, "If that's so, Malfoy, then prove it! But that's just it; you can't bloody well prove it! It's in your blood, it's who you fucking _are_!" She was now standing, the counter being the only thing separating them. She could see the hurt flicker through his eyes—the white flag that had been drawn so early in their yelling match coming to an unsteady halt.

"You say that you're a Gryffindor—brave, noble, kind…but you also forget the other aspect of your kind, you're foolish…Merlin, you're _foolish,_" he whispered, his stare penetrating her. She shivered. "I know what mistakes I've made, I don't need to be reminded of them…" he shook his head. "But you don't know how far I've come. To be here. Standing here in front of you professing my love."

"Your LOVE?" she shrieked. "Your _love_ doesn't mean anything to me! I don't even _know_ you!"

"Then if you don't know me, how can you list what I am? You're contradicting yourself, Granger!"

She shook her head. "All I need to do is _look_ at you Malfoy, and I know who the hell you are. You're crying about a side of you I don't know and don't ever want to know because it's a lie. You're a liar."

"You won't allow yourself to fancy me because you're afraid of the things you may learn about _yourself._"

She was mid-breath in throwing out another string of insults when he stopped her. She pulled back, her eyebrow cocked.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not the woman out there," he pointed towards the front of the house, indicating the outside, "than you are the woman in here. Admit it, this here…_me_…have thrown you into frenzy.

"You're not thinking straight and your routine is off. You're a woman that lives off of routine, but you're realizing how flawed and unhappy it is. You don't live alone because you want to be alone, you do it because you're afraid it'll screw up who you think you are. Then again, you don't even know who you are. Are you Hermione Granger, the muggleborn that was the brains behind Harry Potter's victory, or are you Hermione Granger, the Lawyer. You ask yourself constantly, why can't I just be Hermione Granger?

"You don't take days off, you don't go shopping with your girlfriends, hell! You only dedicate a _day_ out of your week to see your friends! Stop making excuses to hide the truth, Hermione! You hate change you can't control. You hate accepting change you can't control. You hate accepting changed people, you can't _control_. So, instead of taking your hatred out on me, _liar,_ why don't you throw it at yourself, perhaps it'll make you see things more clearly."

Hermione felt the familiar sting of tears, and dug her nails deeply into her sweaty palms. She had never had someone speak to her in such a manner, and frankly, it hurt. To be on the receiving end of someone's mighty wrath scared her. She wanted to be lassoed in, but not to the point where it ripped her in the middle. She willed herself not to cry in front of Malfoy.

But she failed. She was indeed a fool. A fool to sleep with him, a fool to had been so opened that she can be exposed. A shameful tear slid down her cheek. She nodded, her voice coming out calm and controlled, and not at all broken and shaken as how she felt.

"Spot on, Malfoy. So you've seen the internal battles that I deal with. Congrats. But what you still won't understand is that I will _never_ fancy you. No matter how hard you try to prove to me that you like me. I will _never_ allow myself to experience such a failure."

"Again, you're talking about yourself. You wouldn't dare take a chance with me, because I'll see _your_ failures. And you can't have that; you have two perfect alter egos to protect. Someone might actually think you're human and fall in love with you."

She shook her head, "I HATE you!" she screamed. "I hate you so much!" she stepped away from the counter, her tears choking her. "I can't believe this!" she wailed.

"Well believe it, Granger," he said unnaturally soft. He had stepped around the counter, coming to stand before her. He reached out and steadied her, making her look up into his face. He gingerly caressed her tearstained cheek. "I didn't come here to hurt you. I came here because I know that we can work."

"There IS no we!" she smacked his hand away.

"Stop fighting it…you know you fancy me," he whispered. "I know it."

"You don't know dick squat Malfoy! I don't fancy you! Merlin, what are we? Children?"

"If I can't convince you how much I fancy you, what will?"

"Nothing! Because I don't fancy you! I just don't! So please, leave my house—just go away! I don't ever want to see you again. Just go away, please, for the sake of everything I love and would die for, just go away Malfoy." She was practically begging at this point. "You're a dreadful nightmare that I'm sure will plague me for the rest of my life! Isn't that enough to satisfy this horrid game you've tried to play with me? Now just leave."

"It's not a game, and I'll gladly leave you to be alone with your thoughts," he said, stepping away from her and heading towards the front door. She didn't have to watch him leave, she, and probably everyone on the block, could hear the slamming of her door.

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_**Chapter Five**_

"Hermione?"

She lifted her head from the paperwork she was currently buried in, her eyes locking with her assistant, Aaron. He stood framed in her doorway, his tall stature seeming rigid and awkward. She gave him a small smile.

"Yes, what's wrong?"

He walked into her office slowly, a piece of parchment in his hand. "A Mr. Blaise Zabini called. I told him you stepped away, and I thought perhaps you needed a breath to take before calling him back…"

Hermione's body grew hot. Blaise Zabini was calling her? Two days after she had slept with his best mate, he was calling her? For what?

"Thank you, Aaron. Why are you so nervous?"

The young man calmed, "I thought you would be crossed with me, for telling him you were away. I just remembered how angry you were with him a while back."

"No, I'm not mad at all. You did the right thing. Important calls come directly to me…personal ones…can be written down and passed to me later." She held out a dainty hand and he placed it in her palm. There were a few more words exchanged between them, and he went back to his desk.

Hermione stared at the note for a while, Blaise's number scrawled hastily on this torn piece of parchment. She shuddered to think what he could possibly say to her. She would _die_ if he chewed her out because of how she had left Draco. She hadn't seen him at work, and didn't bother to ask any of the Associates about him, regardless of the aching feeling that wouldn't let up from her gut. She constantly had to shoo away the thoughts.

Her hand was reaching out for the phone when someone knocked on her doorframe. She looked up and saw Madden himself standing there, an opened manila folder in front of him. He was a tall man, handsome for his old age, his head still full and thick with amber-colored hair. She found him more intimidating than Warlock.

"Hermione…" he started, his face still buried in the folder.

"Yes, Alex?"

"The weirdest thing ever…I found this folder on my desk this morning requesting that Draco Malfoy be put under the practice of our very own Joseph Goldberg…"

"Yes, I did it…" she said. "I felt it necessary to transfer him."

"I knew that this had to have been a mistake, seeing that Goldberg is a bloody fool and Draco deserves a much more talented and serving hand to guide him through the firm," he said, ignoring Hermione's comments.

"But sir, I can't _possibly_ accept him, there's too many problems attached…"

"So I'm going to disregard this silly mistake!" he gave a cheerful laugh and looked up at her, finally, the smile reaching his eyes. "I'm sure you didn't write this," he shrugged. "Quite an absurd notion! Someone must be pulling pranks, don't mind this, Hermione, we'll find out who wrote it." With a nod and a smile, he disappeared. She could feel the color drain from her face. She knew that Madden was a little…well…maddened…but to such a severe extent?

Just then, her phone began to ring. She peered through her opened door from her desk to see that Aaron had stepped away, probably to use the loo. She sighed and answered the call.

"Hermione Granger speaking," she said tersely.

"Hermione."

"Blaise?"

--

She hurried to the front door of the small bistro she frequented on her off days. It was warm and incredibly comfortable—away from the hectic life she chose to live. This haven was a spot for her to let go and be human.

She saw him sitting in the corner, a cappuccino hot in front of him. Their eyes met and a rather large smile cut across his face, leaning more to the level of innocence rather than the perverse smiles she usually saw on Malfoy's face.

"Sorry I'm late, the apparating point was packed today…you know how it can get on a Monday and during rush hours," she rushed, taking a seat in front of him. He nodded in agreement and his smile was replaced with a contemplating look.

"I'm sorry to have called you on such a short notice, but I recently came back from France and was met with many messages on my voicemail from Draco. Imagine my distraught at hearing his tearful voice—"

_Tearful?_ Hermione thought. _What the hell?_

"—He mentioned how you took his heart and stomped on it a many of times. He wouldn't be specific in the events that led to such a conclusion, but I can infer."

"Did you bring me here to chastise me? Why can't any of you understand that I'm not interested in a relationship with him?"

"Yes, I understand that…you have a friend in me, Hermione. I'm not stubborn like Draco. He's got it in his mind that you and him are meant to be…a destiny developed and shown in the stars…a match made in heaven. But I consider myself a realist. I don't live in imaginary worlds like he does. I know that you don't want him."

She gave a great sigh of relief and actually smiled, "thank you. I just don't know how to get him off of my case. I feel like this is going to be war. A war I don't want to partake in, obviously."

"Understood. I have a proposition."

"A proposition?"

"Yes, a proposition," he nodded. "It involves you and I."

She leaned back fully in her chair, taking in Blaise's appearance. He was coolly dressed in black slacks and a charcoal turtleneck, despite the thick, spring air. In simplest terms, he looked good.

"And what do you have to propose?"

Blaise motioned for her to lean in, which she did, he also leaned forward and her eyes automatically locked with his luscious lips as they moved to form words—

"We should date…be exclusive…start to see each other, romantically."

She spluttered. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"And how will this help?"

He smiled, his full lips curving upward in the most tantalizing of ways. "Well, it would definitely make me happy, and if you don't mind me saying, I think it would make you incredibly happy as well. Why not conjoin two mutual feelings and at the same time, deter an individual who isn't wanted?"

She smiled slowly, noticing what exactly this little meeting was about. Blaise didn't care about Draco. If anything, he probably knew that Draco's dreams of dating her was unrealistic from the start, leaving himself open to date her without complication.

"Well Blaise, I find your proposition to be appealing. However, I think I'll need some time to look over the fine print of such a negotiation—" she was cut off as Blaise leaned forward just a bit more to capture her moving lips into a luscious kiss. She immediately fell quiet, her eyes fluttering shut as their lips moved together.

She pulled away for air and gave him a dazzling smile. "What are you doing next Friday? There's this black-tie event that I'm usually encouraged to go to by your step-father, but I think it would be much more enjoyable if you accompanied me."

"I'll pick you up at seven," Blaise said, leaning in to kiss her one more time, a permanent smile on his face.

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"Granger?"

Hermione was startled out of her conversation with a client. Draco Malfoy stood at her door, a file clenched tightly in his hands.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said with a hint of a growl. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm with a client…"

"I know, I apologize for the inconvenience."

_Yeah right,_ she thought. _Wasn't he supposed to be on vacation anyways?_

"I was just landed with a cold case that I want to discuss with you," he said. He looked stark white.

"Malfoy, this can _wait._"

"No, Granger. It can't," he said, his eyes pleading but his face remaining an unresponsive pale color.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Ling, I'll be right back," Hermione said to the petite woman sitting in front of her desk. Hermione stood, gently holding her open suit jacket to her stomach in a rushed and professional manner as she stalked out of the office, Malfoy following her. She led him into a private conference room down the hall.

"What is it?" she snapped, her cool and professional demeanor M.I.A. at the moment. "What was so fucking pressing that you made me leave a very important client _alone_ in my office during a very important _briefing?" _

Draco threw the folder down onto the table. It flopped open and out spilled images that Hermione hadn't thought of since the war. The night sky filled with the Dark Mark, over Malfoy Manor. Images of Draco's beautiful mother, Narcissa, badly beaten carcass. Hermione swallowed, her mouth becoming dry as she stared at the terrifying images.

"They speculated that it was Voldemort who killed her. Out of betrayal. This is impossible Granger. Potter already took down Voldemort when my mother was brutally beaten and killed. Because they couldn't fully prove it, they marked this case as unresolved. I want to reopen this case. But I need your help. However, there's a conflict of interest…and well…"

Hermione tore her eyes from the images and looked into Draco's eyes. He looked ready to keel over and die himself.

"I have reasons to believe that my own Father murdered her."

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! Again, the foundation of this story is romance, but of course, I'm not going to make it insanely smutty and oozy. I'm going to introduce some heated courtroom drama. I just love writing it! So please, stick around. I promise it's getting good! Please review! ALSO—READ AUTHORS NOTE AT TOP.

If I have any grammatical errors, let me know. Thank you!


	6. Chapter Six

D. I.V.O.R.C.E.

* * *

**Summary:** "Malfoy," Hermione started, "I want a DIVORCE—a D.I.V.O.-MMHPH!" DMHG. AN: will start off leisurely but WILL get to the point! STRONG M for adult-themes.

**AN:** Eek! Has it really been over two years? I'm sorry. Fan writing was something I did as a child, and now here it is, presenting itself to me again at an indulgent time in my life. I hope you all will stick with me as I try to finish this story, and a few others, before I am swept away into another crazy two year hiatus.

**Additional Notes:** Stay with me.

* * *

Hermione visibly paled and felt a chill pass through her, despite the humid confinement that was the private conference room. She immediately took a seat, the images bringing forth memories she had made peace with. The unearthing of them made her feel unsettled. "Your father?" she repeated, tearing her eyes away from the roaring Dark Mark hovering in the sky. He nodded as he swallowed what appeared to be a knot in his throat. "Malfoy, let me be clear right now: you are accusing your father, Lucius Malfoy, of murdering your mother, Narcissa Malfoy?" Again, he nodded. "Do you have any proof?"

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his finely tailored trousers. "Of course not, but I'm certain of this." At his revelation, Hermione grew cross, turning the images over.

"Malfoy! You can't go around making such statements. And without evidence or even probable cause, you can't bring your father in for questioning by the Aurors or me. With all the errors that have happened within the Wizengamot throughout history, I just can't take any chances on hunches…not in this generation of Wizarding Law, at least."

"Always the honest and noble one, aren't you, Hermione?" she twitched as he drew closer to her from his initial stance by the doorframe. She felt uncomfortable having Malfoy so near her, and in a secluded room, as well. She didn't trust him or herself for that matter. How could she, after letting such a slip happen between them before? He shook his head and released an infuriated snort, choosing to perch himself at the edge of the conference table about an arm's length away. He loosened his tie and ran a hand through his fine hair. He looked tired. Hermione took notice of unshaven hair growing on his face, and the slight bags under his eyes. She was suddenly worried for him. She simply did not know how to act around him anymore.

"What's wrong with you, eh, Malfoy? You look like death on legs," she said, ignoring his bait for a comeback.

He huffed, "Well, thank you for your grand honesty. Anyways, my new mother, Neharra, is—"

"—I know of her," Hermione interrupted, her eyes still subtly searching his form. "Who _doesn't_ know of her? Her beauty, the mystery behind her age, her marriage to your father…well…She's even…she's even thought to be a reincarnation of Nefertiti…she's a celebrity."

"Yes, her marriage to Father caused quite a bit of raucous." He paused, as if in a thoughtful moment, and smiled. "She's actually such a sweet woman, really. The media makes her out to be this mysterious, potentially dangerous protégé of my Father's. She really did take care of me when Mother passed, she soothed me. And believe me, despite her beauty, my Father hasn't changed a bit as a frivolous man, still sullen with mistresses, drinking, and futile partying. I might not have solid proof now, Hermione, but I assure you, I am working on it, and I need your help."

"I don't know what exactly you want from me," she said, folding her hands in her lap. She really did not know, and that very fact was causing her stomach to flip flop. Could she help him? To her, it wasn't a matter of _could_ she help him, but _would_ she? What would Blaise say?

She squirmed in her seat, noticing the expectant and intense look he was giving her, sitting close enough to feel above her. She waited.

"I need to enter the Manor."

She was confused. "Well, Malfoy, you're free to do that whenever without my help, as it is _your_ home."

"Forgotten so soon, Hermione? Did you forget the fire? Or your worried self coming to look for me and inviting me back to your home and ultimately into your warm bed?"

She allowed the comment to linger in the air for a bit. She was reminded on his hands on her body, and his kisses on her face and neck. She hated him for knowing her body and its reactions. But at the same time, she was also to be blamed. She was all at once flooded with the angry exchange of words they had after their night together. She grimaced and stood from her seat. "Well, I see you've called off this rendezvous, Malfoy, thank you so kindly for wasting my bloody time!" She made for the door, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. "Malfoy!" she shouted, but his voice outweighed her own.

"I started the fire!"

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled her arm free. "What for? Insurance money?"

"Please _Granger_, the Malfoy line is very fortunate, we don't need to squabble at petty white crimes for money."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Malfoy motioned for the chair behind her and she reluctantly reclaimed her seat. "Well?"

"I had an accident with a lit cigar and a mattress?"

"Malfoy," she warned, "I refuse to waste anymore time. Either tell me what I need to know or you can shove off."

He glared at her for a moment and began to talk, "Do you ever wonder about your parents, Hermione? Perhaps you wonder how they were like when kids, right. Maybe you didn't have to, if your parents were forthcoming people. I only knew what I heard from other families about my Father, and of course he would speak of the wrath of which he placed upon people during Hogwarts, and now, but he never spoke of his childhood. Mother would, sometimes, if you caught her off guard and reminiscing, but Father? Never. It's quite upsetting, when you realize that the one person you are constantly trying to strive for, you know next to nothing about."

"I wondered a lot of things about him, like, why even now when referring to Voldemort, he calls him His Lord? The man murdered his wife, did he not? And then there is Neharra. Bless her soul, but where the Hell did she come from? How long was Father shagging her before my Mother was killed?"

"And on matters of fidelity— I was raised that a Malfoy man should respect his wife, for of course if respect comes from the relationship, the surety of an heir would. Of course, Father also explained that one woman can hardly quench a man's lust, but I _saw_ my Father's whores, and _none_ of them compared to Mother." He paused, his eyes closed for a moment as his feet dangled from the table. Hermione had a horrid urge to run a soothing hand down the arm of this obviously troubled man. He took a breath,

"Father and Neharra have been on vacation these last couple of months. He likes to travel before peak season, you know, to avoid touristy wizards. They're headed to North Africa now and I just love to wander the Manor when they're away. That night I wandered into his office, quite smashed." He gave her a hard look up and down, "I wasn't in the right mood based on the events that happened earlier in the day." The color rose to her cheeks at the memory. She was reminded of their passionate snog, and the proclamation from him that followed. She was feeling lightheaded. "I found out some information, just rummaging through his files. Father was going to divorce her. He filed the paperwork just mere days before her death. And during a war, to boot. The man is ruthless. So out of my drunken fury, I started a magical fire completely out my wits end. I fled the scene, to say the least. I couldn't risk having my Father know I was there, and rummaging through his personal files. I acted as if I were never there."

"But it doesn't explain _murder_, Malfoy." She tried to picture an emotionally drunk Malfoy, hurling objects at the wall upon finding the divorce papers. It seemed so overwhelming. "If he filed for divorce then what motive did he have for murdering your mum?"

"There was something else! Some more files I couldn't get to. He's a tricky old bastard, Father. I _need_ to get into those files, and they've got a good charm on them to prevent people from viewing, but with some time, I know I can get them open, Hermione. This is where you come in."

"Why now, Malfoy?" She wasn't a lawyer for nothing. She couldn't take a huge risk on this matter if she did not have _something_ solid to hold them up. "Your story will go all to pot if you don't have a foundation to go off of. Go on, what is it?"

"I made peace with my Mother's death years ago, but someone wants me to re-evaluate her death, and honestly Granger, this has opened up wounds for me. Wounds that I think you can understand."

"_Someone?_"

"Yes."

"What do you mean?"

He seemed uneasy to her, "I got left this down at security this morning."

He produced from behind him a thick, 11x18 envelope of which her threw into her lap. She caught it angrily before it could fall off. With numb fingers she fumbled with the flap, a sea of photographs falling from within and onto the floor. Malfoy had pulled his wand out and flicked it, causing the photos to collect themselves and land in a neat stack onto the table beside her. She bit back a huff at his gaudy wand work as the images began to register in her head. They were images of the Malfoy family—images of them working, eating, running errands, and even sleeping. There we also images of the night Narcissa died, similar to the gruesome images Malfoy had shown her earlier, no doubt taken from the envelope. She noticed that the more intimate images of the Malfoy family were of Lucius and his surroundings, but the ones of Draco were also alarming, coming as close to the general entrance of the Ministry. Hermione was stiff with fear when she found an image of herself with Malfoy standing in her flat's doorway. The image appeared to have been taken as close as across the street. Whoever this was, definitely knew where she lived.

"Malfoy…" she started, the edging of shock making her voice sound sharper. "They've been, _everywhere._"

"I know," his voice was barely above a whisper. "He left this as well," he said, handing her a small piece of parchment.

"Murderer," was cleanly written across this small scrap. Hermione shook her head, as if in disbelief.

"You have to alert the Aurors immediately," she said, her blood beginning to pump through her body again, "This is not safe, Malfoy. This person could be…trying to hurt you or your Father, or worse, the people who are around you!" She stood from her chair, about ready to bolt through the door and to the floo, but he stopped her. In a flash his hands were wrapped around her upper arms, and he was shaking her.

"Relax, will you, Hermione! Merlin, you act as if you've never been exposed to a bit of danger before!" he looked as if he wanted to have a crazed laugh, but also felt the fear that she felt. She had survived a war, and had gotten a taste of normalcy. She did not want to feel threatened anymore. She could sense that Malfoy, too, felt this way.

"Are you mental?" he asked. "I can't, Hermione. Whoever this is wants to _help_ me. And I won't spoil that by taking this to the Aurors—for fuck's sake I can't imagine _Weasley_ handling this for me!"

"Why send the package to you, though?" she asked, taking deep breaths to calm down. She noticed that Malfoy was slowly pumping her arms, as if trying to soothe her. She jerked from his grasp and rigidly took her seat once more.

Draco crossed his arms against his chest. "Like I said, I think this person sending the images to me wants to help."

"But _Malfoy,_ this person is watching _you_. Even now, I have to ask, how is this person at all a clue in this? Let's not pretend your Father _isn't_ a murderer! He's killed countless people; perhaps someone is exacting a revenge plot against your father. What if this person actually intends to _harm_ you rather than _help_ you?"

He shook his head. "It's a chance I'm willing to take, and right now, it's all I have driving me forward, Hermione." She figured that it was this shaky start that stirred him away from getting Aurors involved. So he had brought this secret to her, certainly to tie her hands behind her own back to help him.

"Fine," she strangled out. "You'll get your lift, but for _only_ 72 hours, Malfoy. After that it goes back into the Ministry's processing pool."

"Excellent," he said, chipper, "but one more thing."

"Merlin, Malfoy, _what_?"

"You have to help me."

"I believe I've already covered that demand?" she asked, becoming cross.

"No, Hermione. I've shared this with you so you may be of assistance to me throughout. I need you…I…I trust you, alright? Not only as a lawyer…but…a _confidante,_ as well."

She knew it, but did not want to accept it. She fought, but she found her head nodded sharply twice. She stared down at her folded hands. What had she done?

"Thank you, Hermione." He was stepping away from her. "You don't know how much I am in your debt."

"Malfoy," they made eye contact, "I don't want any funny business. I'm strictly helping you as a colleague, do you understand?" Anger filled her voice. "I'm with Blaise, and I don't want you to be confused with where my loyalties lie, in any aspect! I made a horrid mistake with you, just on the basis of _words_ and I'm not foolish enough to be taken advantage of again."

He looked as if he wanted to say something heavy, his lips twitching painfully, his hands balling at his sides. He restrained himself though, and instead responded, "I'll be in touch," before leaving her alone in the conference room.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"Are you OK, Hermione?"

"Yeah, you look a little worse for wear, darling, what is it?"

"Oh!" she started, "nothing at all, I'm sorry. Yes. Do you need help with the pot roast?" Hermione shook herself slightly, having zoned out at the table of Mrs. Weasley's. Ginny sat beside her and placed a hand onto her forehead.

"You feel just fine," she said, confused. Hermione swatted at her hand.

"Of course I feel fine, nothing is wrong. I'm just a bit tired, is all. Long week at work," she sighed. She enjoyed her weekends, they always allowed her to kick back and spend time thinking away from the office. But here she was, her mind falling onto _Malfoy_ and his heavy task. She wanted to scream, no, she wanted to take back her agreement to help him. That's what.

"You poor thing," Mrs. Weasley started, shaking her head as she used her wand to peel potatoes. "You poor thing! It's just not right how they have you lot working so hard in that firm. Arthur tells me quite an earful of the politics your firm plays, and how hard you all have to work to get _anywhere_ out there."

"Yes mum, but Hermione made _Partner _remember? She should be a bit more at ease, shouldn't she?" Ginny asked, sticking her tongue out at Hermione as Mrs. Weasley agreed heartily in the background.

"Yes, deary, you do work too hard," Mrs. Weasley chastised, turning her back to the two younger women in the kitchen. She started to hum. Immediately, Ginny pounced.

"So out with it, Hermione," a wicked grin took over the fiery woman's face, "I heard about you and Blaise shacking up. Go on now, is he as good as everyone claims him to be?"

Hermione gasped, her eyes growing wide. "Who told you that?"

"What, that he's a great shag or that you're dating him?"

"Both, I guess," Hermione responded with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"Well, you know how I told you Pansy Parkinson has become a patient of mine?" Hermione nodded.

"Isn't she fond of cosmetic charms?" she asked.

Ginny gave a fond chuckle, "I swear, if I get one more collagen request from her, I'll combust!" She continued, "Well, just a few days ago she told me that she had just come back from brunch with Blaise Zabini, and that he told her the most _entertaining_ news. He announced that he was dating you, and she congratulated your choice in men as Blaise is most gifted in his northern and southern regions. So c'mon now, spill, Hermione. Did you sleep with him?"

"No! I mean…not yet. We've hardly spent enough time around each other for that, but Merlin knows I want to," she sighed, thinking about the tall, dark, and handsome man.

"So, you're just starting out? I reckon you're taking him to the black-tie event, then?"

"Oh yes, and that reminds me…will you and Harry be attending this year?"

"Of course, the Boy Who Lived and his lovely wife-to-be _must_ attend the largest firm in the Wizarding Channel's annual gala, now am I right?"

"Damn right," Hermione smiled. She noticed that Ginny's smile seemed frozen, but her eyes widened. The younger woman placed a hand on top of Hermione's, and it was then that her smile grew wider.

"I'm really happy for you, Hermione," she started, "I care so much about you, as do Harry and Ron, and you deserve to feel happy and appreciated. I've noticed that you've had a bit more strut lately," Ginny gave a naughty winked, "and we can all tell something has made you _very_ happy." Hermione's cheeks turned red at Ginny's last observation. All she could do was lean forward and give her friend a tight hug as her mind spiraled.

It was Blaise, was it not, that gave her that extra spunk recently? They went out to dinner a few times since getting together, even adding in a movie and a separate night of Hermione making dinner for him in her flat. Simply put, they haven't spent a night away from each other since the relationship began a week ago, but she did not feel the need to sleep with him. Of course, their goodnight kisses were more of a preview of what was to come if they ever did get to that step. And when they rode in the cab together he liked to rest his hand just above her knee—sometimes she caught herself from sliding his hand further up her leg. His kisses were definitely becoming much more demanding. Yes, they were dangerously skirting towards sleeping together, and Hermione felt…nervous. Would she compare the experience to Malfoy?

"And when you sleep with him, please do not spare any details," Ginny added.

"Blimey," Hermione said, still pink about the cheeks, "he is something, eh?"

"Yes," Ginny nodded, placing an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "He's handsome, intelligent, wealthy, and from what Pansy says, completely _adores_ you!"

"He does," she replied with a smile. "He's just perfect."

...

When the Weasley family started on their treacle tarts, she had excused herself from the kitchen table. Her excuse was an abundant amount of casework calling her name all the way from home. She couldn't actually bring herself to announce to her second family that she was heading to the Malfoy Manor to break into Lucius Malfoy's files to prove he murdered his wife. _Could I?_ She pondered for a moment, basking in the happy ambience that surrounded her. _Right. Scratch that._ They would think her mental. Regardless, Molly sent her home with about two dozen miniature treacle tarts.

Twenty minutes later, after saying many goodbyes, she found herself at the front door of the heavily warded grounds of Malfoy Manor, box of delectable treats in hand. She slipped by these charms easily due to the lift she had placed on it nearly 24 hours ago. She knocked a few times, and a small house elf appeared to open the door. She smiled warmly at the small elf as she took in his children-sized pants and potato sack for a shirt. He bowed deeply at Hermione, but said no words as he stepped back to allow her in. The door closed behind her, the noise echoing in the wide, dark foyer. From her eyes sight, she could see that the majority of the first floor was lit by candle and torch, no doubt possibly lit this way to freak her out. The elf motioned for her to follow him up the grand staircase two flights, and over until they reached large, black double doors. He bowed again and left her with a quiet pop.

She pushed the door open and took in the dark room before her. A fire crackled in the depths of the majestic, marble fireplace. In the center of the room, a large, foreboding table sat, and in the chair, Draco Malfoy.

He looked up from whatever he had in his hands, a genuinely surprised expression on his face, "Ahh! Hermione, you've arrived. I wasn't sure if you were actually coming or not. I'm glad you did."

Hermione gave a sheepish shrug and approached the table, dropping the box of tarts onto it and flopping onto the squishy armchair that was conveniently placed near Lucius Malfoy's desk. She wanted to laugh at the audacity of the situation. Malfoy's almost warm regard of her contradicted so fiercely his environment. "So this is where Satan plots his dirty work?" Hermione sneered, Malfoy smirked.

"Not going to stick with the innocent until proven guilty notion, then?"

"Not a chance in Hell," she retorted, squinting about the room. "Is this all the light available? There's no way I'll be able to read anything in such a poor setting."

"Silence, woman. I'll charm more candles if you'd like. I want to limit the amount of spell usage in the Manor, in case the Ministry feels a bit curious and wants to peak in after noticing a 72 hour hold."

"Bullocks, they won't notice," Hermione said, catching a snort from emitting from her. She straightened herself up on the seat and smirked. He gave her a piercing, but curious look that almost dissolved her whole amusing gaze.

"Why do I have the feeling you're about to tell me you did something rather naughty to ensure this lift goes smoothly?"

Hermione blushed. He was right; she did do something rather bad. "I stole your file from the Ministry's pool. So, there will be no way for them to check on your home these next three days. The file does not even exist."

He gave her a wicked smile and an approving nod, "Smart girl." Oddly enough, the combination of the smile and the compliment made her feel warm all over. She noticed that his focus was back on the documents before him.

"So, what do you have so far?"

Again, he smiled the same wicked smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Malfoy," she started, already exasperated, "I will not arse around tonight. Tell me what information you have or risk this little operation you've got going."

"I've unlocked a couple of folders already, and I'm just glancing through documents right now." With a flick of his wand, the candles disappeared and what Hermione assumed to be the room's normal light came on. It was still rather dark, but a definite improvement from before.

A couple of hours into reviewing the already unlocked files, Hermione found that Lucius was a _very_ busy man. The companies that he invested in she couldn't count on fingers and toes, and he was thoroughly involved in each companies' success and profit. Upon searching further, she also realized that Lucius was constantly moving large amounts of sums from one offshore bank to another. She had so far uncovered 65 offshore accounts. A small bank in Switzerland held deeds to nearly a billion galleons worth of real estate the family owned. It was ridiculous! She couldn't stop herself from formulating possibilities of intent from these documents. Perhaps by killing Narcissa, he saved himself from parting with half of everything. She sat the papers down. "Malfoy," she called, "would your father murder to keep his money?"

Draco snorted. "Yes, and along with muggles, muggleborns, anyone on the Light, and rogue house elves. You know Father, constantly killing to make a point."

She huffed and folded her arms, "you're a right bastard, do you know that Malfoy? But seriously, do you think that could be a motive?"

He shrugged. "I suppose so. Without his money, Lucius is ineffective in society." He shook his head. "This is all very…difficult…for me, if you haven't noticed. It's not fun, imagining that Lucius could've killed my Mother over money. Or any other matter."

She softened, her heart tugging just a bit as she took in Malfoy. He was dressed quite strangely to her. He wore jean trousers and a plain black t-shirt and it seemed all too simple for the Glorious Draco Malfoy.

"Fuck it to Hell," he swore, throwing down the folders he had not unlocked yet. The abrupt tone startled her. "Fancy a spliff, Hermione?" She nearly choked on her own saliva.

"Ex-excuse me, Malfoy?" she asked, stunned.

"A spliff?" he asked louder. He laughed. "Merlin, don't tell me the All-Knowing Muggleborn Hermione Granger doesn't know what a spliff is?"

"Of course I know what a-a spliff is! The problem is, Malfoy, why would I be interested in smoking one?"

"Because, we're two hours into finding out if my Father killed my mum or not," he paused, his hand reaching into his jean pocket to reveal a cigarette pack. "And I think we deserve a break," he finished, juggling the case around to pull out a perfectly pre-rolled spliff.

"Malfoy," she started to protest, quite unsure of herself. "I can't do this with you…it's…"

"Give me an honest to goodness reason why not, and I'll chuck it out the window." He stuck the tip into his mouth and produced his wand, inching it towards the flared end of the joint. He waited.

"I…don't do drugs," she responded weakly.

"Not good enough," he said, sparking the tip and inhaled. He held the smoke in for a bit, his eyes closing as he exhaled. She sighed and stood from her seat, walking around the table beside Malfoy to perch herself on the edge of the desk.

"I didn't know you smoked cigarettes," she said.

"Just recently," he answered. She plucked the spliff from his hand and took in a drag herself. Upon exhaling she coughed roughly, but still handed the joint back to Malfoy. The grin on his face was rather insane, but she found herself smiling back through her coughing fit.

"Bloody hell," she coughed. "D'you know I haven't smoked a spliff since my sixth year of Hogwarts?" He chuckled as he exhaled again. It was her turn and she pulled another drag before starting again. "Do you remember Seamus Finnegan? He would smuggle dope into the school coming back from every holiday. Not many Hogwarts students knew what this was, and I'd never tried it before until fifth year—Seamus always has a way with words."

Draco burst into laughter, holding his side as Hermione stared at him, somewhat dumbfounded. "What? What is it?" she asked.

"Seamus…ah…sold the spliffs to me," his laughter was met by Hermione's. After several seconds it died down. She smiled a genuine smile at him, a first for the evening.

"Ah yes, I've heard through the grapevine at the Ministry that Seamus is quite the employee over in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office," she said. She took yet another drag and released her hair from the messy knot it was in. She hadn't thought much about her appearance before heading to the Weasley's earlier in the day, choosing some khaki shorts and a white blouse. She felt, however overdressed. She noticed that Malfoy was feasting on her with his eyes. She turned away the spliff, feeling again unsure about herself as the drug began to affect her. What was she doing here? How did she end up smoking a spliff with _Draco Malfoy_ in his father's study? It was beyond her. A thought struck her. "Tell me, Malfoy, how is it that you came about spliffs?"

He took a drag, "It's a funny story. See, it involved Ginny Weasley."

"Ginny?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Yeah, it was around Seventh Year, and I caught her smoking this in an alcove in the dungeons with what's his name? Dean Thomas? Regardless, I inquired what exactly they were smoking, and they explained it all to me—"

"And curiosity killed the cat, right?" Hermione injected, laughing.

"Yes, but satisfaction definitely brought it back," he said with a cough. "They ended up sharing the rest of their spliff with me."

She was surprised, "Ginny has never mentioned that to me."

"Well, she wouldn't, would she? You all hate me."

"I don't hate you Malfoy…" she trailed off. _I just can't be with you,_ she thought. _I can't._ She realized that Malfoy was still staring at her as if she were something to eat. "Stop that, Malfoy. You're freaking me out."

"Stop what?"

"Stop staring at me like that!"

"You look rather pretty tonight, Granger, so I can't help myself. Where'd you come from, before coming here?"

"The Burrow," she chose not to address his compliment but she could tell that her red cheeks gave how she felt away, "that reminds me, Molly sent me home with many treacle tart minis to last me for possibly a month! You're more than welcome to a much as you want," she laughed, gesturing towards the box. Malfoy finished the spliff and turned it off.

"Well, come on now," he said, nodding at the box.

"What?" she asked.

"Be a doll and get the tarts."

"You must be joking, Malfoy," she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs and leaning back on her arms.

"You offered the tarts to me, it only makes sense that you serve them to me as well," he smiled.

"Mhmm…yes, you must be off your rocker, then," she shook her head in faux disgust. "Get it yourself, Malfoy," she giggled.

"Are you sure you want me to get it myself?" he asked stealthily. He placed his hand on her knee and she flinched.

"Malfoy, I told you that this couldn't happen!" She nearly shouted. He didn't remove his hand, but inched it further up her leg.

"But you said I could have as much as I want," he said in sultry voice. She tried to push his hand off, but he held it there.

"You're…you're vile…and overstepping a line again, Malfoy. I didn't sign up for this." She was feeling warm, too warm. She felt the urge to undo the first few buttons of her blouse. She felt as if her very words were slowly coming from her mouth. She felt as if time, itself, had slowed down and Malfoy was the only focal point keeping her grounded.

Her breaths came out in short pants as he stood before her, his hands softly grasping her upper arms. She tilted her head back to look into his face. He smiled and whispered, "You're brilliant," before catching her lips.

For several moments she stood against him numb. But the blood began to flow through her, and her mind began to pick up speed. She began to feverishly kiss him back. Draco Malfoy was kissing her. Draco Malfoy, who she had stupidly slept with but could never imagine a more fantastic shag, was kissing her. Draco Malfoy, her boyfriend's best friend, was kissing her.

She immediately pulled away, "I'm sorry, I can't," she said. Her legs were apart and he stood in between them, his arms now holding the outer side of her thighs. "I can't do this…not with you."

"Do you really not feel the same spark I feel when I'm near you?" he asked.

"Malfoy, that spark is just your willy in a start, please, piss off," she said, shaking her head, pulling his hands off of her.

"I'm not joking, Hermione. What do I need to do?"

"Nothing! I need you to do nothing because I don't _want_ you, Malfoy!"

"Those _weren't_ the exact words you used when we were shagging, though," he started, a sneer on his face. She blushed and before she could say anything he had his arms around her once more.

"I told you I'm with Blaise."

"I don't care," he said, planting his lips on hers again. She put up a minor struggle but conceded to his needy mouth. She lost all inhibition as they kissed, her fingers thrusting into his hair to painfully grip as he bit her lip. Before she could even figure it, she was on her back on Lucius Malfoy's table, being straddled by his only heir. His hands were everywhere, but Hermione's stayed perfectly gripped in his hair, never breaking the intensity of their kiss. She could feel the hardness of him against her inner thigh and a sure of excitement went through her, making her moan. "Let me do this," he whispered in her ear.

All she could do was moan into his mouth, her legs wrapping around his waist. He wanted her so badly, and it drove her up the wall with self-righteous desire. But even though it stroked her ego that Draco Malfoy found her so intoxicating, she couldn't help but feel as if someone had placed hooks around the edge of her heart, pulling in various directions at once. She felt something for him, and it wasn't just lust. This scared her to her wits end.

But she still continued to feast on his mouth, his hand now in between them, unbuttoning her shorts. When they were finally undone, he broke their kiss, albeit difficultly, and began to trail kisses down her body until he reached the edge of her tummy. He hooked his elegant fingers around her shorts and yanked them with such a force she cried out, her head falling back onto the table. He continued his kissing until he was over her fine, silk knickers. She jumped at the contact, his mouth resting on her. He had slipped a finger to move the fabric to the side so he could run his tongue down her. "Like Heaven," he moaned against her. She didn't stop him when he stimulated to remove her knickers. She had moved her hands in a start to grip something on the table, an edge possibly, before he could make contact with her again. She felt as if she would sky rocket away, however her hand knocked back a small paperweight with a force that should have thrown it from the table. Instead, it tiled slightly back and Hermione felt the table begin to shift underneath her.

"Holy fuck!" she screamed, throwing her body forward, straddling Malfoy as he fell back into his armchair. Malfoy looked up at her with a mixture of shock and confusion, but immediately locked eyes with the table as the top portion opened up to reveal a hidden drawer containing a rectangular, steel box.

She removed herself quickly from him, searching the ground for her shorts. He produced them from behind his back, and she slipped them on without looking at him. She had let go with him and the results could've been…horrible…logically. Physically, she was sure it would've been perfection.

He did not hesitate in investigating the box, but not without sending her a forlorn look, "This has a language I've never seen before." He produced his wand and tapped the box with it, muttering a charm. Nothing occurred, and he hummed. "A translation charm cannot unlock it."

"Well then, let's get to it," Hermione said, releasing the air she had been holding in and smoothing down her clothes. She didn't want him to bring up or attempt to continue what they could've done minutes ago. He nodded.

Hermione leaned over to view the box. Around the edge of it a fine scroll of twirls and loops stood embossed against an ash gray metal. Hermione shuddered. The font looked to be moving, like a snake. She could swear that the box itself seemed to be admitting soft, hissing sounds.

A thought struck her, "Malfoy…maybe it's Parseltongue!"

He sat upright in his chair, nearly tumbling forward. "I'm totally well caned and still very horny, but somehow, this is all making sense. How did I not think of that before?"

She shook her head, "Because that's all you care for Malfoy, sex and drugs. Are you familiar with written Parseltongue?" He laughed.

"Not at all, but I'm sure we have some books on it," he yawned, checking his watch. She had a different kind of excitement entering her, now. She was dying to know what was in the box. "It's nearly 3am, Hermione. I think we should get some sleep, and tomorrow we can pull down some books from my library and find a way to unlock this."

"Why tomorrow? We can simply do it tonight."

He gave her a flat look. "I wanted to _do_ it tonight, but someone had to go and muck it all up. So, I think the morning will be more appropriate. I can show you to your room."

"I think I'll just floo home, if that's all right," she responded hastily, heading towards her armchair. There was no way in hell she would stay over.

"Hermione, don't be silly. Stay the night, and in the morning we can continue working. You look pretty fucked up to me, and I'd just feel more comfortable if you stayed," he said, sounding sincere. She had made a sound of anger when mentioning her state of being. She felt just fine!

"I can't stay here, Malfoy. You know why."

"You keep saying that, and yet your actions do not match up to your words," he retorted smartly.

"Oh, fuck off Malfoy!" She grabbed the box of tarts and began to head towards the door.

"I promise to be on my best behavior!" He shouted at her. "Come on, Granger. Plus, it's been some time since I've stayed in the Manor without another person being here," he said almost guiltily. Her hand was on the knob and she paused. She couldn't help but feel bad for him, with everything that must be going through his head.

"I don't want to be anywhere near your quarters."

"That's fine with me. I promise no funny business."

She turned back to see that he was smiling at her, the smile aching to turn into a full fledge grin. She wanted to smack it clean off her face, but couldn't help the own smile creeping across her face. Hermione was in deep trouble, and she knew it.

"Then show me to my room," she said with a shrug.

...

The room was lavishly decorated in warm blue and brown tones. It was pretty and not as cold as she would've thought a room at Malfoy Manor would be. He had produced a shirt and boxers he assured her plenty of times were clean.

"Well, then, I guess goodnight?" she asked awkwardly, as she stood close to him at the doorframe. She was itching to shut the door, not wanting him to prolong his stay.

"Goodnight," he responded, kissing her softly on the lips before disappearing down the dark hallway. She didn't even have enough time to throw a mad remark at him.

Lying in bed, the sleep ready to overcome her, she secretly wished Malfoy had tried to prolong his stay. It was too quiet and the single candle light did not ebb away her panic. She knew that by conceding to him, she would be feeding into whatever ill intentions he may very well be hiding for her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to wish away the scenes of him burned into the back of her eyelids. She wanted him badly, too, but couldn't have him. At least, she couldn't have him the way he wanted and lusted after her.

She so badly wanted his love to be true, but the possibility that it might not be gave her the ammunition to stay away.

* * *

Thanks for reading, everyone! So sorry it's taken me FOREVER to get this out! But don't worry, chapter 7 will be up soon so stay with me on this!


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